


I will sit with you in the dark

by StoriesbyNessie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Ron Weasley, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, Hermione's Nook RarePair Soulmate Fest, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, POV Ron Weasley, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22690525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesbyNessie/pseuds/StoriesbyNessie
Summary: Ron struggles to cope with life after the war, which didn't turn out the way he wanted. In an effort to cheer him up, Harry and Ginny take him to a carnival. It might be just the thing that changes his life forever.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ron Weasley
Comments: 67
Kudos: 59
Collections: Hermione's Nook RarePair Soulmate Fest





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The wonderful cover art was made by Charlie9646, thank you so much! <3

**_When you can’t look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark_ **

_\- Alice in Wonderland_

The tea was too hot on his tongue, causing Ron to flinch. Warm liquid spilt out everywhere, including over him, when he dropped the mug to the floor with a loud clatter. It shattered into several sharp pieces, and only luck saved him from not getting cut too. He roared in both pain and frustration; his legs were showered with the tea that was too hot to drink. He wished he had owled in sick today. Stayed in bed.

“Stupid fucking bollocks!” Ron muttered to himself, groping for the wand he had in the pocket of his trousers. With a swift flick of his wand, he pieced the mug back together and wiped up the tea. He then banished the cup to the sink before leaning against the counter in the Auror’s break room, gently massaging his temples. Ron felt a headache incoming, and it was still four hours to go at work. He was exhausted; even more so with the knowledge that his desk was barely visible because of the mountain of paperwork he needed to go through. Kingsley had been on at him for weeks about a report on a cursed book too; a report Ron had put off writing. He was an Auror for Merlin’s sake, meant to be out chasing dark wizards alongside Harry and their colleagues. Not writing all these bloody reports in the claustrophobic little rathole the Ministry dared call an office. Well, dared to call _his_ office anyway.

Ron was suddenly shivering, the tea he had spilt felt cold on his legs. In his rage, he had forgotten to dry his trousers when he cleaned the floor and put the mug back together. Ron muttered a few more curse words, grateful he was alone in the break room this early Friday afternoon. He proceeded to dry himself with the help of his wand.

The doors swung open, and Ron caught sight of Harry’s raven black hair. He shot Ron a quick, worried look, holding the latest issue of the _Daily Prophet_ in his hand.

“All right, mate?”

“Fine,” Ron replied through gritted teeth, his wand hand hovering over his legs, the other gesticulating to the sink. “Dropped the sodding tea mug, is all…” His tongue grazed the back of his teeth, it still stung a little from when he accidentally scalded himself. 

“Shit,” Harry said, adjusting his spectacles with his forefinger. “Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

“No.” Ron shook his head, continuing to move his wand over his trousers until he was all dry.

Harry took out a glass from the cupboard above the sink, which was in level with Ron’s head. Ron shifted a little to give his best mate room to fill the glass with water and watched as Harry eagerly gulped it down. The _Prophet_ was resting under his arm.

“Look, I know you’ve been feeling kinda low lately…” Harry said, putting down the glass to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, “But I’ve got something right here that might cheer you up.” He grinned, holding up the newspaper for Ron to see, before thrusting it into his hand. “Look at page five.”

Ron opened up the paper on the said page. There, under a few ads, was a moving picture of a giant circus tent and some workers in front of it, busy setting up what looked like a carousel. Ron frowned at the photo, wondering what exactly Harry had meant when he said it would cheer him up.As if reading his mind, Harry answered before Ron had time to say anything at all.

“Carnival,” he said excitedly, stabbing his finger at the news article under the picture. “They’ve set up one on an empty field just outside London for the weekend. It’s Muggle-owned, but they’re keeping everything hidden with charms just as usual. I’m taking Gin tomorrow, and we’d like for you to accompany us. You seriously need to get out, Ron.”

“Harry… I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” Ron was saying the words before he could stop himself. He looked out the window, watching the grey sky. The rain was pouring down as usual, and the world seemed just as ugly as Ron felt. He shrugged. “Think I’ll just stay in this weekend. Rest up for next week.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You hide in that flat of yours _every_ weekend. Come out with us, live a little. Besides, if you don’t come with, I’m pretty sure Ginny’ll throttle us both with her bare hands. You know how she can get. I think she’s a bit worried about you, but she’s too proud to admit it.” Harry’s cheeks turned a little pink. “Don’t tell her I said that. And don’t tell her I told you that taking you to this carnival-thing may or may not have been her idea…”

Ron managed a tiny grin. “So I don’t have a choice then, do I?”

“Nope,” Harry said, refilling his glass from the tap. He snagged back the newspaper from Ron’s grasp. “No staying in tomorrow for you.”

***

Ron knew he should be thankful, really, for having Harry, and he supposed, Ginny too. And yeah, he was. Ron could count on Harry for anything. He could _tell_ Harry anything.

Except this. Ron didn’t want to seem whiny, even though Harry already kind of knew.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. He had tried to find valid reasons for this to make any sense at all, only to find that there were none. It had been going on far too long, but no matter what he did, it just wouldn’t fucking stop. The constant emptiness.

Ron knew he had always been a little more unhappy than others. Growing up in his family and eventually attending Hogwarts with Harry and Hermione, he had gotten used to the unhappiness and hidden it beneath a laid back attitude and a good sense of humour. It protected him like a shield. He buried his feelings deep within himself in favour of being there for his friends, shrugging his thoughts off because Harry and Hermione were more important. For the most part, it worked, and when it didn’t, they always got through it. Ron always came round.

Until one day after the battle was over, it didn’t work anymore. Little did he know, that his evil thoughts, insecurities and feelings of inadequacy he worked so hard on burying and ignoring, just grew and grew until he was shoved somewhere dark and it became harder and harder to pretend they weren’t there. It felt as though the Slytherin locket still hung around his neck sometimes, making it impossible to breathe.

He always felt like he was never good enough; a constant disappointment. All his siblings were either married or in steady relationships; some of them had already gotten children. Even Charlie, the forever alone one had met a nice bloke, and their mother was already knitting tiny baby boots, in case they decided to adopt. Meanwhile, she fussed over Ron and worried how alone he was. The constant echo of her _’You don’t handle loneliness very well, dear’_ rung in his ears, making him feel like a burden to her because he wasn’t playing happy families like everyone else. That his relationship had ended while the others’ were thriving. Ron was sure Hermione had left him because she was tired of how he was.

Not that she ever said that aloud when she said she wanted to break up. She didn’t say much, actually, except that she wasn’t in love anymore. That they were better off as friends. Hermione had cried when she told him that, that awful Tuesday morning a little over a year ago before they both went to work. Ron had been too shocked then to say much about it, but when it finally dawned on him, he was losing his girlfriend; he was hurt and broken that he wasn’t wanted anymore. They were still friends, but not as close as they used to be. Ron felt ashamed that he wasn’t over the hurt yet. He was such a failure. Hermione had a new boyfriend now, and a brightness in her eyes Ron had never seen during their relationship. She was now seeing Draco Malfoy-out of all fucking people- and he wondered how exactly that romance had happened. The fact that it was Malfoy hurt more than he’d liked to admit too; Ron had always had a hunch she wanted someone more classy. That’s what it felt like at least.

_If I only was different, maybe she wouldn’t have left me._

No matter how hard Ron tried, he just couldn’t ’cheer up’ like they always suggested, either. Hermione, his family, Harry. Everyone. He didn’t know why he couldn’t do it. His life had been good, for the most part. He had a strong, loving family. Harry was the one with all the baggage and not even he was so gutted he couldn’t move on at all. Ron struggled to get out of bed each morning and force himself to show up at the office.

Work was shit too. He was a shit Auror, he knew, and he shouldn’t be there. They’d been working for a couple of years now, and Ron noticed that Kingsley rarely sent him out on missions anymore, which only proved his point. Rarely was a bit of an understatement too, he _never_ sent him out on missions anymore. He seemed to get more paperwork than his colleagues; Kingsley always made him write reports of missions he hadn’t been a part of. His deskbound duties made him feel like it was just a matter of time before he would get sacked. Ron had no doubt about it. 

He sighed, rubbing his temples some more. Harry still stood beside him, now looking down on the mug Ron had put down in the sink.

“Would you like me to make more tea for you?” He asked, nodding to the mug.

Ron gave him a small smile. “Yeah, thanks, Harry.”

***

Fucking hell, was he _ever_ going to have a good night’s sleep?

Ron woke up in his flat the following morning, staring bleary-eyed at the sunlight flooding into the room from behind his yellowish, too-thin curtains in his small bedroom. He groaned in frustration and let his head fall back onto the pillow. His large hands shot up to his face, gently scrubbing over the pale, freckled skin.

The clock on his bedside table told it was ten am, and he had only been asleep for the past four hours. The night had been full of restless tossing and turning and a lot of dark thoughts. The voices in his head kept bugging him, kept whispering mean things in the darkness of the night.

_You’re not good enough._

_Nobody loves you._

_Nobody will ever love you._

_You’re a shit Auror._

_It’s just a matter of time before you get sacked. Kingsley is just waiting for the right moment to tell you._

It almost ate him alive.

Ron knew he had some sleeping draughts stored in his bathroom cabinet, but he couldn’t be arsed with getting up in the middle of the night to take one. He didn’t like taking them, cause he didn’t like the way they made him disappear into a dark abyss, losing all control over himself. By six in the morning, his body gave in to exhaustion, and he fell into some sort of light sleeping state that made him feel even more tired waking up than he would have felt like if he hadn’t slept at all.

Ron stared up at his stained ceiling and groaned again, realising that today, he had agreed to go to the bloody carnival with Harry and Ginny. He contemplated sending them a Patronus, telling them he had a migraine and needed to stay home. But Ginny could be so annoyingly stubborn and would probably see through the lie right away.

He sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, somehow hauling the rest of his long, naked body up too. Ron sat there for a while, rubbing the back of his neck, allowing the muscles in his body to wake up fully. He then reached forward to pull the sheer curtain aside to see out the window. The glass was stained and in a desperate need of cleaning, as was the rest of the shoebox he currently lived in. His bedroom alone would have his mother going berserk, he could almost hear her voice ringing in his ears.

_’Ronald Billius Weasley! How dare you let your home fall apart like this?!’_

Somehow it all was ironic. Being a war hero and having his Auror’s job had left him with more money than he had ever had in his life, yet he still lived in the cheapest neighbourhood their world had to offer, and in the smallest flat. Ron could almost hear his teenage self moan about this: _’Oh, come on, mate. If this is all you’ve got for us, I don’t think I’d ever want to grow up.’_

_’Well, sucks,’_ Ron thought bitterly to himself as he stretched out with his arms lifted above his head, squinting at the blue, almost cloudless sky outside. A promise of a lovely spring day hung in the air, the cobblestone paths beneath his window already full of activity.Witches and wizards in colourful clothing moved in all directions, but Ron noticed they seemed to walk more up than down the narrow road. Probably where the carnival was.

This flat hadn’t been what he wanted for himself as an adult- nothing in his life after the battle had turned out the way he wanted. Ron was supposed to have lived a good, happy life in his house with the woman he’d secretly been pining after while they were in school. He had been convinced that as long as he had her, he would be happy by default. Eventually. The happiness never came, and when Hermione left him, it felt as though his last hope he had so desperately clung to walked out the door.

_And now it was too fucking late._

He just couldn’t be bothered with spending all that money he had dreamt about spending all his life now. It felt like there was no use when he had no one to share it with. Materialistic things couldn’t bring him joy. He might have thought that at one point in his life, but it had all been a lie.

With heavy feet, Ron dragged himself into the tiny bathroom opposite his bedroom. He made a face to his own reflection in the small mirror above the sink - flaming red hair stood up and seemed to have developed its own life overnight. Ron knew he looked horrible, dark purplish-black bags under his morning-puffy eyes, a reddened mouth and a blank stare. He was paler than usual, light brown freckles barely visible due to his ghostly white skin. His gaze dropped to the Chudley Cannons-orange round rug on the floor, while he leant sideways to turn on the shower. Ron hissed as the cold water splashed his legs and feet when he stepped inside before it turned to a pleasant warm stream that steamed up the mirror. He lifted his head to let the hot water wash his face, closing his eyes and enjoying himself for a few minutes. Ron loved the way the water soaked his hair and poured down his back, and he almost wished he could have stayed there forever, not going out to face the world ever.

The relaxing moment soon came to an end though, as a shrill voice cut through the silence of his flat, making Ron’s body tense up and his hand reach to turn off the water fast.

“Ron! Roooon! Where are you?!”

He heard the fast pace of feet getting closer, the shouting voice irritably muttering something between roaring his name. He understood almost immediately it belonged to his sister.

“Ron, mate! It’s just us!”

Harry’s voice. They must have gotten in from the Floo. Or Apparated. Ron swore beneath his breath; he had hoped for them to wait a little longer before showing up. Or possibly forgot about it altogether. Which he knew wouldn’t happen, so he didn’t know why his mind came up with that thought. Ginny shouted again, and before Ron could answer her, the door to the bathroom was flung open.

“RON — Oh!”

His sister stood on the threshold, blushing, closing the door in a flash once she saw the state he was in. Ron had luckily been quick to snatch a towel from the rack next to the shower, so she had seen nothing she wasn’t supposed to see. It didn’t stop either of them from becoming embarrassed, though.

“Fuck’s sake!” Ron bellowed to the white, wooden door she just slammed shut, “Don’t you know how to knock?!”

“Why don’t you lock the door?!” Ginny bellowed back from the outside.

“BECAUSE I LIVE ALONE!”

“Ron!” Harry’s voice again, accompanied by the sound of his fist as the man knocked at the door three times, “Have you eaten anything yet?!”

“No!” Ron shouted, shivering in the small shower as the cold air hit his body, and he wrapped his arms around himself, still holding the towel.

“Then we’ll make some breakfast, and you can finish showering, all right?”

Fifteen minutes later, Ron had both showered and was dressed. Harry had found some eggs and bacon in the fridge, which he had fried while Ginny had made some toast and poured orange juice into three large glasses. The smell of the food was delicious. Ron felt his stomach rumble; he hadn’t realised how hungry he was. Usually, he devoured food like no other, but ever since that emptiness settled deep within him, he hadn’t been able to enjoy it as much as he used to. Ron often forgot to eat. It was weird how that had changed.

The three of them fell into an easy conversation as they started on the food. Ron chewed, swallowed and forced himself to smile now and then. And speak. He noticed how Harry and Ginny kept shooting him looks, their eyes worried. Or maybe it was just his imagination that they were.

_Because they don’t really care._

_You’re just an obstacle to them._

Ron forced the annoying voices away and kept eating in silence. The eggs grew in his mouth as he fought to swallow them down.

“The weather’s nice today,” Harry commented, craning his neck to watch the life outside. “Bet there’ll be loads of people at the carnival. Heard some people at work talking about it.”

“What?” Ron lifted his gaze to look at his best mate. He’d been staring down at his breakfast plate and watched the slightly burnt bacon. “Have they?” Ron hadn’t heard anything about it. He noticed how a faint blush coloured Harry’s cheeks.

“Well, yeah, a bit…” he answered. “Might have been some mentions of it yesterday while… While we got back from that Beddingfield case…”

Ginny suddenly began coughing, glaring at Harry over the table.

“Oh… right,” Ron said, resuming to look down at his plate. He couldn’t help the gloomy feeling building up in his body hearing Harry talk about a case he hadn’t been a part of. The Beddingfield case had been a particularly tricky one. A dark wizard with a vengeance for Voldemort in mind and he had been challenging to catch. Harry had spent weeks looking for him together with a couple of their colleagues while Ron had been deskbound writing those bloody reports. He had wanted to come along and help, but Kingsley had been uncompromising about it when Ron had tried to convince him to change his mind. It was loads of bollocks his boss wouldn’t allow him - he wasn’t a kid for Merlin’s sake! Plus, he had fought side by side with Harry in that fucking war, so why Kingsley stopped him from being out on the field with the others was beyond him.

Harry shot him an apologetic look over the table. The conversation faded out. After breakfast, Ginny gathered the dirty plates, glasses and utensils and charmed them to wash themselves in Ron’s sink. They picked up on the easy conversation again, talking about everything else than work as they put on shoes and cloaks to join the herd of people outside.

***

It was as if somebody had puked the rainbow in the middle of an ample, empty space, surrounded by rather big trees. The three of them had Apparated to the carnival area instead of catching a Portkey, as it wasn't far and seemed more comfortable than to jostle against everyone else, as they all tried to get a spot on the bewitched items used for travelling.

They seemed to be in the middle of some kind of forest, Ron thought as they took in the view in front of them. If Muggles looked at it, they would only see an empty field and not think about it further, but for every witch and wizard in the land, the area had sprung to life in every thinkable colour. The smells, sounds and visions were almost too much to take in. A large red and white striped circus tent was placed in the middle of the grassland, different booths for food, souvenirs, toys, snacks, drinks and everything else from A to Z going out from both sides. A whirligig with a bright neon sign was seen in the distance, a grand Ferris wheel and lots of other merry-go-rounds. Ron inhaled the smell of popcorn hanging in the air as he, Harry and Ginny slowly made their way to the ticket booth to join one of several available queues for entering the carnival area. A fee needed to be paid for entering. The place was packed with people; they waved to Dean, Seamus, Neville and Hannah, who stood in a queue not far from theirs.

Ron, already taller than average, stood on his tip-toes to see over the others’ heads, trying to work out which queue was the shortest. They all seemed almost equally as long. His heels barely touched the ground again before he noticed two people passing by out of the corner of his eye. Harry barely had time to warn him before Hermione’s uncharacteristic giggles echoed out through the air. Her brown, bushy hair bounced softly as she walked past them hand in hand with Malfoy. She turned to wave to Harry and Ginny, and she did say hello to Ron too, or so he supposed. Because at that moment he bent down, suddenly very busy with tying his already tied shoelace, which took so much time that Hermione and Malfoy just couldn’t wait for him to be finished and Ron needed to focus so he couldn’t lift his head to say hello. When he got up to his full height again, he saw them slipping quickly past the gates into the carnival area. Of course, fucking Malfoy wouldn’t need to queue like everyone else.

Ginny kicked him gently with her foot. “Ron, you can’t keep doing this forever. Avoiding them. It’s ridiculous. Makes you look stupid.”

“I’m not avoiding anything!” He frowned at her. “I talk to Hermione sometimes, just not… when _he’s_ around, that’s all. What the hell does she see in him?”

“I don’t know, mate,” Harry said, and Ron could tell there was honesty in his voice. He turned to face both siblings. “Listen, when we get to the ticket booth, I’ll pay for us all. It’ll be my treat.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Ron said, still looking after Hermione and Draco, “But you don’t really have to pay for me… Not now.” He blushed a little; the lack of money during his childhood still bothered him. He still remembered how it felt not being able to afford anything he wanted or wished for.

“I know,” Harry smiled, “but I’m paying anyway.”

Ron smiled back, trying to fight off the voice in his mind telling him he wasn’t good enough.

_Harry’s only being nice, trying to cheer you up._

About thirty minutes later, it was finally their turn to purchase tickets. Harry, taking the lead, took out his wallet and smiled politely to the old witch behind the till.

“Three tickets, please.”

“All right,” the old witch said, her long fingers pushing down a few buttons on the cash register. She gestured towards brightly coloured bracelets in a basket next to her. “You need these to enter. With them, you can come and go as much as you’d like without having to pay again.”

As if on cue, another younger witch came up behind the counter to help them put the bracelets on.

“They’re bewitched to change colour depending on your mood,” she cheerfully explained as she put on Ron’s. His immediately turned blue. “Oh, you’re not very happy, are you sweetheart?” she asked, giving him a sympathetic look. Ron frowned at her, ignoring to answer.

The sun stood high in the sky. Ron watched lots of little kids running around, laughing while tiny toys flew in front of them. The atmosphere was cheery and loud and reminded him a bit of the Quidditch world cup, except that this time everything was peaceful and well.

They had really gone all out with this thing. The first thing greeting Ron, Harry and Ginny was a big, grey and battered haunted house with real ghosts with a little sign next to it that said: _Bring your partner and enjoy our frightening journey among our lovely, yet scary ghosts! Not for children under seven._

Somebody had made a romantic walking path for couples to enjoy next to it, then Ron saw a tent where couples could get their picture taken… Come to think of it, the more he looked around, the more he noticed that the carnival was more about couple's activities than anything else. There were a lot of wizarding families there on vacation, but everywhere he turned, he saw couples holding hands, sharing ice cream, kissing and there was even a booth where couples could get married. Ron whirled around, shooting Ginny and Harry a dirty look. They had taken him to some bloody couple’s fest! Was this a joke?! 

It felt like they were throwing in his face how alone he was. Everything in this bloody place served as a reminder that he was.

Ron was about to say something, to protest wildly and possibly go home, but he was interrupted by a knock on his shoulder.

“Ronald?”

Luna stood behind him, beaming. She was there with her father, holding his arm, a dark purple cloak around her shoulders and a multi-coloured knitted beret on her head. Her long, dirty-blonde hair was hanging down her back, silver eyes round with sunlight reflecting in them when they met Ron's blue.

He hadn’t seen Luna Lovegood in a long time. She was close friends with his sister, but Ron rarely met her himself.

“Oh, hello!” Ginny said brightly, already hugging her before Ron got any chance to speak. “So nice to see you! You too, Mr Lovegood!”

“Hello, hello,” said Mr Lovegood, waving to them. He smiled feebly. “So lovely to see you all.”

“Yes, very!” Harry’s voice now. “Finally something fun happening, eh? Been a long time since there was an event…”

“Yes…” Luna said in her dreamy voice, “We’ve been enjoying ourselves all morning, haven’t we Daddy? We’re about to leave now though, Daddy needs some rest, so I am taking him home. Anyway, I hope you’ll have a wonderful time. So nice they set up something like this for us to enjoy…”

“We thought so too,” Ginny replied. “We’re out walking my brother…” She nodded teasingly to Ron and nudged him playfully in the side. Ron, who hadn’t said much, anything really, scowled and felt the hot blush on his cheeks. Bloody Ginny. “He doesn’t get out very often.”

Luna shot Ron a curious look he really couldn’t place. “That’s nice. Weather’s lovely today.”

“It-it’s not like that.” Ron made a mental note to kick Ginny later on. Why did she have to say something like that? It didn’t matter how old they got. Ginny was still an annoying little sister, always pulling his strings.

“It so is.”

_Fucking Ginny._

“I’m happy for you that you are out enjoying yourself, Ronald.” Luna actually smiled, looking at the still blushing Ron. “And, if you’d like something fun to do,” she said, turning to point to a small, secluded area to their left, “There’s a vending machine over there that gives you pleasant little messages on pieces of parchment. All you have to do is stick a coin into the machine, and you’ll get a happy little quote to enjoy.” Luna’s gaze dropped to Ron’s right wrist, where the witch had put the mood-changing bracelet. “It might cheer you up, Ronald,” she said understandingly as if she knew what the colour suggested. Ron stuck his hand quickly into his pocket, ashamed. None of the others' bracelets had a blue colour.

_’You’re not very happy, are you, sweetheart?’_ The witch’s voice echoed in his mind. Bloody hell.

“Oh, we will definitely be trying _that_!” Ginny tugged on both Harry’s and Ron’s arms. “Come on, you two! Let’s go try all the fun things!”

They said goodbye to Luna and her father. Ron looked over his shoulder and saw them walking towards the exit. The bright beret on her head stood out in the ocean of people. The colours were playful and cheery; he couldn’t help but wonder if the beret was homemade and if Luna had knitted it herself. He shook his head, that was a bloody weird thought.

_**To be continued...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to the lovely mods for letting me play in this fest. This was supposed to be a one-shot but like everything I do, it turned out longer than expected and due to health issues I wasn't able to finish it in time. I hope you enjoy the first chapter though and that it isn't too boring!
> 
> As I mention in all my WIPs, I am a completionist so don't worry! Ron and Luna is such a wonderful pairing, definitely one of my favourites for sure. <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A machine that sings bad songs and Ginny and Harry get the cheesiest quote in history!

“Harry…” Ron muttered out of the corner of his mouth as the three of them stood in an overcrowded shop Ginny had forced them into, now looking at weird hats. Ginny was in front of a mirror, trying on a few of them. Ron watched his and Harry’s reflections in another narrow, funny-looking mirror and grimaced to the too-tall, red-haired, sad-looking figure staring back at him. “You took me to some sodding couple’s thingy, you know that right?”

“What?” Harry said absently, busy eyeing an emerald-coloured top hat high on a shelf above the mirror. “No, I don’t think so.”

“There are couples everywhere if you haven’t noticed,” Ron pointed out sullenly, folding his arms across his chest and looking around to confirm just that. The whole shop was full of them. They were kissing, holding hands, groping each other in the corners when they thought nobody was watching. “Do you know how I know that, Harry? Well, I have eyes. And I am _the only_ single bloke in here who isn’t a midget! And ten years old!”

“Ron, don’t be daft.” Ginny appeared behind him, wearing a green hat with built-in orange lights. She pushed him away from the mirror, checking herself out from side to side. Harry laughed at her.

“Ha, you’re adorable,” he said, kissing her cheek. She turned to kiss her boyfriend properly on the mouth. Ron rolled his eyes behind them.

“Oh, don’t mind me standing here third-wheeling…”

“Sorry.” Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave him a sheepish smile.

“Can we go now?”

Ron sounded like a petulant child, and he _hated_ it. But they had been in this bloody shop ages and the air was so warm in here, he was sure he would go mental if they didn’t get the fuck out of there soon. He could barely breathe in the cramped space that seemed to shrink by the second. More people came in than walked out. Ginny and Harry barely perceived he was there at all, busy with themselves and each other as they were. Eventually, after thirty minutes, Ron announced he was getting hungry (even though he wasn’t) only so they could leave. Harry bought the emerald top hat after contemplating it for about five hundred years before he decided. Ginny said it brought out his eyes- Ron nearly gagged hearing this. He had never heard Ginny being so cheesy except for when she was with Harry.

They ate lunch by one of the food booths, then Ginny and Harry wanted to try the rides. Ron went with them on the Ferris wheel and the whirligig because he had always loved to swing as a kid when they had a homemade one attached to one of the large trees back at the Burrow. Ron then offered to stay put and hold their cloaks when the sun brought warmer weather towards the afternoon, while they went into the haunted house and went on some more of the rides. Ron watched them, the happy, carefree looks on their faces, how his best mate lit up when he looked at Ginny, heard their laughter and felt the sheer bliss radiate out from their bodies. Ron realised he was jealous. He hadn’t felt that kind of carefree for a long, long time.

_Why can’t I feel like that? Why can’t I have that?_

It wasn’t a partner to fix everything he wanted. Ron wanted to feel that for himself, to feel true happiness _within_ himself. He knew his sister and Harry tried, they really did, but their efforts were futile. Ron couldn’t just ’cheer up’ like they all expected.

He leant back against a tree, waiting as Ginny bought them candy floss from a nearby booth. His mind tried to come up with excuses to leave. He had been here four hours, and he longed to go back to his flat and hide. Lie under the covers in his bed and pretend he didn’t exist until Monday morning.

“I was thinking…” his sister said once she made her way back to him, with Harry in tow, “that we should go try that machine Luna talked about when we got here this morning.” She handed Ron a cone of the sweet sugary candy floss she had bought, a bright blue coloured one. “Look, Ron, I bought you a blue one so you could match your bracelet…” She smirked.

“Thanks, Gin.” Ron pulled a face at her. “You’re so thoughtful.”

“I know,” she continued, raising her coppery eyebrows playfully, “which is why we’ll try out that machine right now. Come on, Ron, Luna said you could get fun, happy quotes from it and you really need one to cheer you up!” She took his arm and dragged him along with her.

It was near the entrance and the exit but almost hidden from view. It would be easy to miss, there was no neon sign above it. The vending machine was turquoise, lamps around the small screen blinked invitingly, and upon approaching it, Ron nearly jumped as the machine unexpectedly started to sing:

_Half a quote_

_Put together_

_Will make our world so much better_

_Two souls_

_Combined to one_

_Will make the heart sing a song_

_This is magic from high above_

_Push the button and find true love_

Then the machine went on the second verse how it was nothing but a simple box of metal, giving Ron heavy flashbacks to every year at Hogwarts when they had to listen to the sorting hat sing.

“Oh, that’s adorable!” Ginny exclaimed, putting her hands together. “What a cute gimmick! Luna said nothing about this being a find-true-love-machine. That’s perfect for you, Ron!” She smirked, patting his arm.

“That’s not what it is, Gin,” said Harry, scratching his head. He had walked up to a small, shiny placard with a golden frame next to the machine, and was now reading aloud what it said:

_I will give you half a quote, the person who has the other half is your destined to be soulmate. Try this fun activity with your friends, family, or partner. Only 1 knut!_

_(The machine sings different songs. Your soulmate can be anyone and it doesn’t have to be in a romantic way.)_

“I don’t care,” Ron frowned, giving the turquoise automat a childish glare, “bloody rubbish is what that is. I just want to go home.”

“No!” Ginny tugged on his arm. “Come on, Ron, stop being such a buzzkill! It could be fun! I reckon we should all try. Only one knut each…” She gave her brother _that_ look, the look Ron recognised anywhere. That look that belonged to a horribly annoying little sister. And just like always, Ron sighed in resignation, not without huffing loudly though.

“Fine.”

“Great! I’ll go first,” Ginny decided, throwing a coin into the machine slot. It made a horrible shrieking noise before printing out a thin strip of parchment. Ginny took it and held it up to read.

“Let’s commit the perfect crime,” she said. “Okay… weird. But fun, I suppose.” She shrugged, smiling.

“Ron, do you want to go now or…” Harry gestured towards the automat. Ron shook his head, shifting on his feet. He felt exasperated and impatient, all he wanted was to get home.

“Nah, you go ahead, mate.”

Harry nodded, stepping forward. Once he put a coin in the machine, it made another shrill sound, almost vibrating in front of them. Another parchment was printed out, which Harry took and held up in the same way as Ginny had done earlier.

“I’ll steal your heart, and you steal mine,” he said.

Ginny gaped. “The machine really works!” She shrieked, brandishing her half of the quote. “I thought it was just some fun gimmick! Look!” She put her and Harry’s quotes together.

_Let’s commit the perfect crime_

_I’ll steal your heart, and you steal mine._

Ginny laughed, something dancing in her brown eyes. “So soulmates then. That’s so lovely!” Ron watched as she hugged Harry and couldn’t help a small smile. He wasn’t sure he believed that sort of thing, it probably was pure coincidence Harry and Ginny got the matching one after each other. To make couples feel it was real.

Ginny tore herself away from her boyfriend and glanced expectantly at Ron. “Now’s your turn.”

He sighed and put a knut into the machine. For the third time, it made a sound, sounding as it was in pain. He wondered bitterly if it was because of him.

Ron bent down to take out the piece of parchment the machine spat out.

_’When you can’t look on the bright side…’_

“Oh, this is just so typical!” Ron scowled.

_Of course, I fucking get the miserable one._

Ginny snatched the strip of paper from his hand. “When you can’t look on the bright side,” she read aloud. “Well, Ron, you have been down lately, truth be told…” Then she fluttered her eyelashes. “Oh, I wonder who has the rest of that quote and what that would say to complete it…”

“Nothing.” Ron made a face to her. “I bet this machine is just set up to fool people into believing they have a soulmate. If I stick another coin in, I’ll probably get the rest of that fucking thing. Here, watch.” Ron put in another knut into the slot, and the three of them saw the machine work for the fourth time. Triumphantly, Ron took the parchment printed out, fully expecting to get the other half of the shitty quote he had received.

“Look here… Whenever I’m with you…” He creased his eyebrows in confusion. What the hell?

“When you can’t look on the bright side whenever I’m with you,” Ginny repeated with a smirk. “Nah, Ron, those don’t fit together. You’re wrong.”

He tried again. Another half came out, and it didn’t match either. Ron huffed in annoyance. The machine was fucking with him; he was sure. Just like everything else was.

_’Oh, you’re not very happy, are you, sweetheart?’_

The witch’s voice still rang in his ears from this morning when they put on their bracelets by the entrance. Why did everyone and everything in his life have to confirm precisely how miserable he felt? He glared at the blue colour around his wrist. First thing when he got out of here was to chuck the bracelet in the nearest bin, he decided. Where it belonged. He dryly thought about throwing himself in it too, while he was at it.

_** To be continued...  ** _


	3. Chapter 3

_Monday._ Ron had overslept and was sitting puffy-eyed by his desk; it felt like he still was asleep. In front of him laid the report he was supposed to be working on, about the cursed book Kingsley had ordered him to write. He had written two whole sentences at the top of the page, one of them being the headline. He yawned and leant back in his seat.

His night had been terrible. Like always. The voices in his head had taunted him until the wee hours of the morning. It was then his body and mind yet again gave in to pure exhaustion, and he fell asleep. Ron woke up with every muscle aching fifteen minutes past his alarm spell, and he knew he should have just stayed home. But being alone with his thoughts was usually a bad idea, so he came into work anyway. Even though he hated it, all he did was writing reports anyway.

_This is your life now._

_When you can’t look on the bright side…_

“Shut up,” Ron told the open air in his small office. “Shut up.”

There was a loud knock on his door, causing him to nearly jump.

“Come in!” He croaked, almost wincing at how dark and weird his voice sounded. He cleared his throat before shouting, “It’s open!”

A tall, dark and broad-shouldered wizard stood on the threshold and Ron was hit with worry in his stomach. _Fuck._ Kingsley Shacklebolt, his boss, only smiled when his eyes met what Ron was sure was a very pale, but hopefully not terrified-looking face.

“I’d like a word, Ron if you don’t mind? May I?” He made a gesture with a long arm, and Ron hurriedly rose to his feet, greeting him by the door.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he said, motioning to the empty chair opposite his. Ron leapt forward to remove the clothes hanging haphazardly on it. He rarely got visits in his office, so the chair had been serving as a place for the extra robes and trousers he had for work. His cheeks burned with shame.

_Now Kingsley knows how sloppy you are._

Kingsley clapped Ron on the shoulder before taking his seat in front of Ron’s desk. Ron took his place behind it.

“I’ve meant to talk to you, Weasley,” he said in a serious tone. “For a long time now.” Kingsley licked his lips. He looked a little nervous. Ron wasn’t used to seeing him like this, and it made him feel nervous too. Was this the moment he had been waiting for? What is now Kingsley would sack him?

_That would be so fucking typical._

“Ron, do you know why I put you more and more on paperwork duty? Have you to write all those reports?”

_Because you think I’m useless._

“No…” Ron looked at him, confused.

“I’m worried about you,” Kingsley continued in his dark voice. “I’m worried, Ron. You’re one of my best Aurors…”

_Liar._

“But I can’t send you out on missions right now. It seems like you don’t feel very well…” Kingsley leant forward in his seat. “I’m not telling you this as your boss; I’m telling you this as your friend. Cause you kids mean a lot to me. I’ve noticed over the past year, especially in the past months, how you’ve changed. You seem like you aren’t really here. I know you and Hermione Granger ended things…” he paused for a moment before continuing, “I don’t know if that’s why you’re not feeling well, Ron, but as a policy here at the Ministry, we do not send Aurors showing signs of mental health issues out on the field. Not since we lost one of our colleagues who threw himself in front of a criminal casting the Killing curse a few years ago. The Ministry covered the story up, but since then…” Kingsley looked at him with such a grave expression, Ron was almost taken aback. His mouth was parched as he tried to take in what the tall, dark wizard was saying. Did his boss think he was suicidal?

Sure, Kingsley had right when he said he was unhappy, but… _Suicide?_

“I won’t do myself in if that’s what you’re insinuating,” Ron said dryly, hearing how sullen he sounded. That tone wasn’t helping to support his own argument. “I want to be out there. I’m no good with all of this.” He gestured loosely to the parchment lying on the battered wooden surface.

_But maybe you think I’m a shit Auror._

_Maybe you want to sack me, and you don’t know how to tell me._

Kingsley nodded. “Believe me, I want you out there too. But because of the policies at the Ministry… I’m sorry. I’d like for you to work on feeling better. I’d hate to lose you, Ron.” The wizard got up to his feet. “I need the report on the cursed book on my desk Friday afternoon, Weasley.”

With another clap on Ron’s shoulder, Kingsley excused himself and exited Ron’s office. Ron watched the door slam shut behind Kingsley and let out the breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding.

Merlin’s fucking shiny cock. His heart was beating fast, all sorts of emotions running through him. On one hand, Ron was relieved Kingsley hadn’t asked him to pack up his things and leave. On the other… His mind spun around the words from his boss.

_He thought I want to kill myself._

_Is that how others see me?_

_’You just need to work harder on trying to cheer up, Ron, sweetheart,’_ a voice in his head gently reminded him. A voice sounding suspiciously like his mother.

“I’m trying,” he whispered to the shut door. “I’m fucking trying all the time. Believe me.”

***

_Tuesday._ Another sleepless night shifting restlessly in his bed. With heavy feet, Ron had dragged himself into one of the narrow lifts they had at the Ministry. He was now standing there in the small space together with several others while the elevator made a rustling sound that finished in a little squeak before it started moving downwards. Ron didn’t like taking the lift, and he didn’t like being down in the Ministry archives. His only purpose for going there was to see when the last report about a cursed book was written. And how many reports there had been about them in the past. It was about as boring and dull as it sounded and he knew why he had been putting this report off for so long. It was such a pointless report - it was a bloody cursed book for Merlin’s sake! What was there to tell really, except that some proper fucked up bloke had had a cursed book in his possession until they confiscated it? Ron groaned inwardly while the lift continued to rustle and squeak until it made a sound of protest and stopped. It slowly opened for him, and he stepped out, squeezing past an elderly wizard with a long grey beard.

The archives smelled of old and dust. Ron squared his shoulders and made his way to the section of information about cursed objects. He opened a drawer and browsed among the stacks of paper and books and was so concentrated on finding what he needed quickly that he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone down there.

“Hello, Ronald.”

The sound would have startled him if it hadn’t sounded so serene and calm. Blue eyes looking up, he spotted Luna Lovegood standing there, smiling at him.

“Hi, Luna,” Ron forced himself to smile back. “What are you doing here?”

He wasn’t used to seeing Luna at the Ministry, let alone down at the archives. But here she was now, standing there wearing a colourful yellow coat over a green dress and the knitted multi-coloured beret she had worn at the carnival on her head.

“I was just looking if there had been any reports on Crumple-horned Snorkacks,” she said. “They live in Sweden, of course, but I figured — ”

“Right, right,” Ron interrupted her impatiently, waving with his hand. He’d forgotten Luna was all about things that didn’t exist, and he wasn’t in the mood to hear any of it. Ron faintly recalled a memory from their school years where Luna went on about these Kacky Snorgles or whatever they were. He’d forgotten what she said almost immediately after she stopped talking.

“I’m a magizoologist you see, and I’m currently writing a book about them. Fascinating creatures… Although I’ve never found one… Anyway, what are you looking for, Ronald?”

Luna peered down the drawer Ron had pulled out.

“I’m looking for reports about a book believed to be cursed with dark magic,” Ron briefly explained, gesturing to the papers. “But I can’t seem to find something about it anywhere. I’m supposed to write a report on one, and I just wanted to see when there was last a cursed book reported…” He made a face, realising he had used the words ’report’ and ’reported’ more than he should.

“That’s nice.” Luna beamed at him. She gazed so deeply into his eyes; he felt slightly uneasy. It was also weird how it warmed him, or maybe it was because his cheeks reddened at being studied so intently. Luna really _looked_ at him, as if seeing him for the first time; Ron wasn’t sure if somebody had ever done before. The dim light from the candles hanging in the ceiling above them reflected in her pale silver eyes.

“I dunno. Bloody dull work if you ask me.” He smiled faintly, feeling bone tired. Ron’s body ached from several nights of no sleep and horrible thoughts. He was starting to get a headache, too. “Did you find what you were looking for?” He asked her.

Luna shook her head, smiling still. “No, I couldn’t find anything either. But I wasn’t expecting to. People have never reported seeing a Crumple-horned Snorkack…”

Ron nodded, not sure of what to say. An awkward silence settled between them as they looked at each other. Luna’s silver eyes were so pale and seemed to bore right into his very soul.

“You look tired, Ronald,” she pointed out after a few silent moments.

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, a little annoyed.

_No shit._

“I hope you feel better soon.” Luna’s expression gave nothing away, but there was something so… _knowing_ in her voice in the way she spoke to him. Ron wasn’t a fool, Ginny spent time with Luna on the regular; surely she had said something about him at some point. But would Ginny care enough to do that? Luna wouldn’t be interested in facts like that either. After all, he just needed to ’cheer up’ and ’work harder’. That’s what they all said.

“I should…” Ron began, but during the same time, Luna spoke too and uttered the same exact sentence.

“I should go.”

They both laughed.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again, Ronald,” Luna said and shot him another smile. “I hope we’ll run into each other again soon.”

As she turned and headed for the lifts, Ron realised he had two choices. Glancing at his wristwatch, he saw it was nearly time for a break. He could either go up to his office and stare gloomily at that report he was supposed to be writing and skip the break, or he could take a break early and catch up a bit with Luna Lovegood. She was strange enough to maybe be able to take his mind off things, giving him a break from his overthinking brain. The Kacky Snorgles didn’t seem so unappealing all of a sudden.

“Hey, Luna!” He called to her back before he could overthink this too. “I’m about to go on my break.”

Luna turned, her expression happy. “That’s nice.”

Ron stepped forward. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

She shook her head.

“Then would you maybe like to have some tea with me?”

***

The canteen at the Ministry was almost empty when Ron and Luna walked in. The journey up to the Auror’s department on the second floor had been quiet, and Ron wondered to himself if it had been stupid of him to ask her.

_Stop it, you asked her because you wanted a break from your head. Don’t overthink this too. Get yourself together, mate._

They filled two mugs of steaming hot tea and took seats by the window down the far end of the room. It was raining today too. The sky had opened up - it was as if it was crying.

“So these… Kacky Snorgles,” Ron said, stirring a spoon in his hot tea.

“Crumple-horned Snorkacks,” Luna corrected gently.

“Yeah, those… You said you’re writing a book?” Ron cleared his throat, searching in his mind. Luna had said something about that down in the archives. Or so he thought.

“Yes,” Luna said happily, nodding. “It’d be nice if more people could learn about these amazing creatures. I am saving up my money too, you see because I’d like to travel back to Sweden. Daddy and I didn’t have any luck in finding them the last time we went.”

“Sweden, eh? Never been there.” Well, Ron had never really been anywhere, truth be told. He was a Weasley. Could never afford to travel growing up. Ron’s family had been in Egypt the summer before his third year at Hogwarts to see his eldest brother Bill but apart from that, he’d never set his foot outside of Britain. Money wasn’t a hindrance anymore; time, effort, and finding someone willing to travel with him was.

“It’s kind of like England, I suppose,” Luna said. “Lots of greenery. I wish I could have spotted the Crumple-horned Snorkack though… But I enjoyed being there a lot.”

Fairly sure the creature Luna was obsessed with was just a fragment of her imagination, Ron simply nodded. He couldn’t resist teasing her a bit, though.

“Maybe they head south during summer,” he joked. “Like birds but the opposite. Maybe they flew out of the country.”

“Crumple-horned Snorkacks can’t fly,” Luna said patiently in response. “And they don’t leave the country like that…” She curled her hands around the mug.

“Stupid joke…” Ron shrugged. “Dunno why I said that.”

_Why are you so bloody weird? Why can’t you be normal for once in your entire life?_

Luna looked out the window, and Ron caught himself staring at her. She looked nothing like Hermione and come to think of it, it was bizarre to compare her to Hermione too. Her blonde hair looked even lighter under the lights in the canteen. She had taken off the colourful beret and put it on the table. He still wondered if she had knitted it herself.

Luna had pale, almost white eyelashes framing her silver eyes. A faint pink tint on her cheeks. She was actually pretty, Ron realised, and just that thought was strange to him. It was something he had never thought about before.

Apart from his brief relationship with Lavender Brown, Ron had only been with Hermione. She had been the one he originally had wanted and pined after in school. He had spent all his school years wanting nothing more than to be loved by her. When she broke up with him and got together with Draco of all people, it hurt him. Broke his heart. He wondered if someone was ever going to love him again. Wondered if Hermione really had loved him at all.

_Maybe not cause you’re so fucking weird, and you’re ugly and…_

_You’re unlovable._

Ron’s hand resting on the table balled into a fist at his own thought. His own mind was mocking him.

Luna noticed how he tensed up.

She fixed her grey eyes in his blue. “How are you, Ronald? You look troubled if you don’t mind me saying. Be careful. You don’t want to get wrackspurts.”

“I’m sure I won’t,” Ron muttered, his gaze dropping to the table. “If I do, I’ll make sure I stay home and rest.”

Ron had started to feel a bit annoyed, and he couldn’t explain why. The voices in his head taunted him to no end, and tea with Luna Lovegood hadn’t been what he had expected. The way she looked at him as if her gaze could pierce through him… It was weird and made him feel uncomfortable.

Luna gave him a smile. “That’s good, but it’s not a disease, Ronald. It’s what people get when they’re sad or troubled. I think you deserve to be happy. I hope you can get rid of them. You don’t want your brain all fuzzy.”

There was a short pause, then Luna asked: “Did you try the vending machine at the carnival? I hope whatever you got was able to give you a smile, Ron.”

Ron looked up then, narrowing his eyes. Anger suddenly burst up within him. “What do you mean?”

Luna didn’t seem aware of the sudden change in his voice or his mood. “I hope the machine gave you something hopeful. Daddy and I had such a fun time with getting ours…”

“That thing wasn’t some happiness machine, Luna.” Ron scowled. He sounded grumpier than he had meant to; Ron hadn’t planned to let any of his negative emotions show. But this whole happiness thing she was on about stirred his feelings within himself like a hurricane. How could Luna miss what the real purpose of the machine had been? Was she blind?

It was as though every muscle in his body stiffened as he got more and more irritated.

“It was a fucking soulmate machine!” He continued, exasperated. “It said on the sign and everything. Thought you’d read it, you’re either blind or stupid if that managed to get over your head. Besides, when I tried it, it was fucking useless. I don’t need a damn reminder of how miserable I am. My brain tells me that all the fucking time and I just want it to shut up, Luna, I just want everyone and everything to just. Shut. The fuck. Up!”

When Ron finished his little speech, he was red-faced and trembling. His voice had risen at the very end of it, causing people turning around to stare at them. Luna looked nonplussed and said nothing. Ron pushed back his chair with a loud creaking sound and stormed out of the canteen without saying anything more or bothering to take his mug with him. He left Luna alone by their table and kept on walking until he reached his office. Ron slammed his door shut and it wasn’t until his back was pressed to the wooden door and his fingers angrily pulled at his hair that he realised what the hell he had done.


	4. Chapter 4

_Wednesday afternoon._

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Ron threw a cushion from the sofa across the sitting room. It hit the bookshelf on the opposite end, landing in front of it. Ron groaned, kicking something invisible and wringing his hands. He’d been pacing back and forth for the past hour, ever since he got off work.

He knew he had been incredibly mean to Luna yesterday morning, and he’d felt awful ever since. His lousy temper had gotten to him. Ron still hadn’t apologised- he hadn’t dared to. Luna must hate him. Ron hated himself, and the longer he waited, the more stressed he became.

“Why are you such a shithead?!” He yelled into the room.

_Why can’t you do anything right?!_

The look on Luna’s face when he accused her of being stupid was burnt into his mind. Ron couldn’t get it out of his head. Great, he hadn’t seen her for a long time, and the first thing he did was being horrible to her. She didn’t deserve that.

“You can’t wait any longer,” Ron told himself as his restless legs kept walking in circles around his coffee table. He gnawed at his lip and thought for a moment before flopping down onto the sofa, his hand searching for the wand he had thrown in there earlier. He hesitated briefly before summoning his Patronus. The happy Jack Russel dog shot out of the tip of his wand, wagging its tail and ready to do whatever Ron needed.

“Luna, I — I need to talk to you,” Ron said to the dog. “I feel like shit for yesterday. I’d really like to see you, if…” he chewed on his lip again. Ron had been close to saying _’if you don’t hate me.’_

“… if you’re free tonight. I-I’m so sorry, Luna. Please let me know. Oh, and this is Ron, but you probably know that…” Ron’s cheeks reddened at his own words as he watched the Jack Russell dash away through the wall with the message to Luna Lovegood. He tipped his head back, feeling exhausted. Now all he needed to do was to await Luna’s response. 

_If_ she was giving him one, that was.

_Thursday morning._

When Ron opened his eyes and heard the thunder and rain pouring down outside, he noticed he still hadn’t heard a thing from Luna. His stomach quivered with worry.

Just like expected, the night had been full of tossing and turning. This time the voices taunting him had involved Luna.

_She hates you._

_You are the evilest human being alive._

_Amazingly, you’ve still got friends, but you just wait. You won’t have that for long._

_Maybe it’s for the best if you actually do yourself in._

_Nobody would miss you._

_Nobody, Ron._

_You should have been the brother who died._

Ron had teared up then, hugging his pillow desperately in the darkness of his bedroom. He rarely thought about Fred any more, his brother who died during the battle. Fred, who would never be older than twenty; whose age Ron had reached and passed by with three years now. It hurt. So fucking much. His own thoughts were vicious and patronising; it felt as though they were chewing on his brain. They kept taunting him until his pulse quickened, his breathing became irregular, and he was hyperventilating. He cried into the orange pillowcase until it felt like he was all dried out, and his head was pounding. Once again, Ron fell asleep purely out of exhaustion.

_Nobody would miss you if you disappeared._

When he headed into work, the report that was due the following day seemed to glare at him. It still lay on the desk and Ron had still not written more than two sentences. The cursed book report Kingsley wanted made him think about Luna and thinking about her made his stomach turn. Why didn’t she answer his Patronus?!

By lunch, Ron Disapparated from the Ministry into Diagon Alley. The thought of being in the canteen with the others repulsed him; Ron wanted nothing more than to be alone. He hadn’t bothered telling Harry and had been avoiding him all day. Not that Harry had missed him, he thought, he had been busy with another case all morning and hadn’t once been in at the office.

The weather had cleared up- the sun had broken through the clouds and dried the cobblestone paths. Ron walked mindlessly around, not sure what his plan was. The long street was busy with people, and he firmly kept his gaze down to avoid eye contact. He didn’t want to run into someone he knew.

Ron wasn’t sure why or what had led him there, but soon he stood in the bookshop- Flourish and Blotts. The sweet, musky smell of old books mixed with the scent of paper and ink from the freshly printed ones, filled up his nostrils, and he scanned the many bookshelves, uncertain what he was looking for. He was alone in there and completely lost in his own thoughts, so he nearly jumped when the shop-worker -a short, elderly lady- coughed behind him.

“Is there anything particular you’re looking for, dear?” She asked, smiling.

“N-not really,” Ron blurted, whipping around. Licking his lips, he then asked, “You don’t happen to have anything on crumple-horned Snorkacks, would you?” Ron almost wanted to congratulate himself for remembering the proper name of the magical creature Luna was so interested in. He didn’t know where he got it from, he just knew it made sense to ask.

The old lady shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid there is no such thing as a crumple-horned Snorkack… At least not something we have a book on here anyway.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks though,” Ron said, gripping the strap of his bag he had over one shoulder, with both hands.

“I apologise, I don’t mean to pry,” the old lady continued. “But if you don’t mind me saying, you look a bit lost, dear.”

_I am._

“I have a friend who’s a magizoologist… And I’d like to give her a book of some sort, but I dunno which she would like the best,” Ron said, blushing. “She probably has all of them though, I suppose…”

“You can always buy her one of our gift cards,” the old lady offered. “If you’re not sure about what she has in her book collection.”

“Yeah…” Ron agreed, a little absently. Blimey, was it just him or was it really warm in here? His throat felt drier than the desert.

“We also have a brand new set of diaries that came in yesterday morning,” the lady continued, motioning to a display near the counter where colourful books were shown. “A limited-edition collection.” The lady beckoned Ron to follow her, and when they were in front of the display, she took out one book and showed him. It was dark purple with the word ’journal’ engraved in gold on the front. “This could be a perfect gift for your friend. Perfect for keeping a diary over magical creatures or just used as a regular one. Their choice.” 

“I’ll take it,” he heard himself say before he could think the better of it. Ron reached for his wallet. “Could you gift-wrap it for me, please?”

***

The weight of the book felt like a heavy brick in Ron’s bag when he ten minutes later exited the shop. It was bloody ridiculous spending 40 galleons on a book for someone he barely spent any time with but all the same; he had done it. He couldn’t figure out why.

_’Maybe because you’re trying to buy her forgiveness.’_ The voice in his mind said.

Ron stopped dead in his tracks. Somebody behind him huffed in annoyance as they nearly walked into him on the busy street.

_No, why would I do that?_

_’Because you’re an idiot,’_ his inner voice quipped.

Ron shook his head as if trying to shake the voice off.

_When you can’t look on the bright side…_

By late afternoon, Ron finished writing the report and put it on Kingsley’s desk. He hadn’t bothered returning to the archives to check the dates of when they last had a case with a cursed book which he hoped Kingsley wouldn’t ask about. He contemplated sending Luna another Patronus; she still hadn’t responded, which made him feel more and more anxious. Ron had had a hard time concentrating at work and couldn’t help worrying if something had happened to her.

_Or maybe she’s so hurt that she wants nothing to do with you._

Ron stared at the wrapped book peeking out from his bag on the floor when he was hit with a realisation. Groaning at why he hadn’t thought about that before, he slung the bag over his shoulder and hurried out from his office to Disapparate.

***

His mother would kill him if she knew her son was nearby and wasn’t intending to visit. Ron had Apparated to his home village and was now standing in front of the giant rook that was known as Luna Lovegood’s house. He drew in a breath, trying to calm down his fast-beating heart as he walked through the broken down gates with all the little signs Mr Lovegood had tacked to them. Ron walked up the zigzagged path and hesitated for a moment before attempting to knock at the front door of the circular house. Ron stepped back and hoped Luna would be the one to open the door.

He waited for a moment, and then he heard someone fiddle with the locks on the inside. The door opened. Ron swallowed.

Much to his relief though, it was Luna who opened the door. She gazed up at him.

“Ronald.” Luna sounded surprised, but her expression was soft and had no sign of any anger. Her dirty-blonde hair was tousled, and she had on a canary-yellow dress.

“Luna,” Ron gasped at the sight of her, nervousness rushing through his body. “I sent you a Patronus. I — I want to talk to you. _Need_ to talk to you. If you want to.”

Luna’s silver eyes grew large, and she looked despondent. “Oh — I’m sorry, Ronald…”

Rejected. Of course.

“Right…” Ron said. “I get it.”

_I fucked up._ Ron clasped the strap of his bag.

But before Ron could turn on his heel and get out of there as fast as he could, Luna clutched his arm. She grabbed his arm through his thick Auror’s robes and yet still her touch burned until she pulled away her hand. It was weird.

“I got your Patronus,” she assured him. “But Daddy doesn’t feel well, you see, and I couldn’t respond, and then it must have slipped my mind. I am really sorry, Ronald.”

“I treated you like shit yesterday,” Ron said hastily. “You didn’t deserve any of that. I — I just want to say I’m sorry. I was a real dickhead to you.”

“It’s okay, Ronald.”

“No, it’s not!” Ron cried. “I called you stupid. Which you’re not. You’re — I’m sorry. So sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she repeated. “You don’t feel well, Ronald.”

“No,” he admitted. “I don’t.” He hung his head.

Luna looked over her shoulder before turning back to him. “Would you like to take a walk? I’m sure Daddy will be all right by himself for a while. Just wait here for a moment, will you?”

Luna disappeared inside her house, and from his position, Ron could see her rush up the spiral staircase. He peered into what was the Lovegoods’ kitchen, watching the yellow and green walls and what he could see from the cupboards which Luna had painted various flowers, birds and insects on. He’d been in this house before, and Luna’s Dad had then tried to hand him, Hermione and Harry over to the Death Eaters in the hopes of getting his daughter back from the Malfoy Manor. The Lovegoods’ house had been destroyed when they fled but had since then been rebuilt.

’The war changed us all,’ Ron thought as he looked around. People turned against each other then. And now, several years later, they all awkwardly tried to find out how to live, to breathe properly without all the stress. This new era of peace had also brought them things they never imagined being possible before.

_Like Hermione and Malfoy’s relationship…_

Ron shuddered on the spot. “Don’t think about that,” he ordered himself.

Luna returned downstairs, her hair bouncing as she hurried down the steps. She put on the same yellow coat she had been wearing when he met her down in the archives and gave Ron an apologetic smile.

“Come,” she said, closing the front door behind her. “I’m sorry you had to wait for me, Ronald. Daddy’s sleeping; I wrote him a note explaining where I went in case he wakes up and is worried.”

“How is your Dad?” Ron asked as Luna led them out on a path which Ron knew led down to the stream at the base of the hill Luna’s house stood on.

“It’s different every day,” Luna said, her gaze focussed on the slightly wet ground to prevent herself from falling as she walked ahead of Ron down the path, “He gets exhausted very easily. But some days it’s like he has all the energy in the world… He’s different after the war and Azkaban…” she trailed off, and they both were quiet until they were by the stream. Luna sat down on a large stone and Ron watched her eyes slip shut as she turned her face up to the darkening sky. A slight wind caressed her skin and went through both of their hairs. Ron stood a little awkwardly beside her, not really sure on what to do.

“He is sorry, you know,” she continued slowly, opening her eyes again to look at Ron. “He says that often.”

Ron didn’t need to ask her what she meant.

“He was just worried for you, Luna. Hell, the war made everyone fucked up in one way or another. I ditched Hermione and Harry in the Forest of Dean for a bit. Thought while everything was going on, I’d never abandon them and yet — I did.” Ron was very grateful for that it was getting dark, so Luna couldn’t see how he blushed at the memory. He was still ashamed of that.

“Apparently nothing’s changed either,” he continued, almost snorting at the realisation. “Since I — Well. Said what I said to you.” He couldn’t look at her, so he looked down on the water calmly purling in front of them.

Luna shifted a little to make room on the stone. “Sit down, Ronald,” she said, clapping the stone. “You don’t have to stand.”

Ron dropped awkwardly down beside her. The stone was large, and cold, but not so large that there could be space between them. They needed to sit close to both fit and Ron felt a weird, comforting warmth as their thighs pressed against one another. He put the bag he’d had on his shoulder down by their feet. The journal he had bought Luna was still in it, waiting.

“Something troubles you.” Luna’s statement fell easily off her lips, direct and straightforward.

“Something always troubles me,” Ron snorted.

Luna turned to look at him and unashamed, she pressed a hand to Ron’s chest. He was wearing several layers of clothing, but her sudden forwardness still made him feel like they were crossing borders. But then again, Luna had always stood out from everyone else.

“It’s in your heart,” Luna continued knowingly. “That’s what troubles you, isn’t it?” She removed her hand gently. Ron hoped she hadn’t noticed how fast his heart had pounded when she had held it there. He swallowed.

“My heart’s fine. I think.”

“I said _in_ your heart,” Luna smiled. “It’s what making you not feel very well, isn’t it?”

“How do you know?” Ron asked, chewing his lip.

“The mood-changing bracelet at the carnival. Blue is the colour of sadness.” Luna turned her gaze to the stream again. “I really did think the quote from the vending machine would cheer you up, Ronald.”

“Not your fault it sucked.”

“What did you get?” Luna asked after a few moments of silence. Ron shrugged, leaning down to pick up his bag. He had stuck the message in the front pocket, not sure on why he hadn’t thrown it away. Ron reached inside the pocket and gave her the thin strip of parchment.

_’When you can’t look on the bright side’_ Luna read aloud. Still holding the message, she looked at Ron. “This made you angry,” she said with the knowing tone she always seemed to have nowadays. “You thought the machine was mocking you.”

“Well, yeah, a bit maybe,” Ron muttered and blushed again. He closed his eyes. “Suppose that’s pretty fucked up of me to think, huh?”

“No,” Luna said. “Not at all.”

“I hate my head,” Ron blurted without thinking. “It’s just always so fucked up in there. I don’t know what to do…”

Ron found it strangely easy to sit on this very rock and tell Luna Lovegood -despite not seeing her for so long- about the voices that lived inside his head. About the emptiness that had always been there, but now was worse than ever. About Fred and the hole his passing had left in his family. His family tried to keep their spirits up the best they could, finding solace in old family bonds and form new ones in marriage and the new children coming into their ever-expanding family. How Ron, as usual, felt like he always stood on the outside. Not really being a part of everything, a stranger in his own family and among his friends. How hurt he had been when Hermione broke up with him and got together with Malfoy. It stung so fucking bad and never left, even though he wasn’t in love with her anymore. Luna listened intently, saying things when needed, but mostly she let Ron talk.

And Ron did.

He talked until his voice had gone hoarse, and his throat was dry. He talked until his bottom hurt from sitting on the uncomfortable stony surface. He talked until it felt as though his throat was closing up, and his voice trembled. _Fuck, you can’t cry._

Noticing this, Luna brushed some of Ron’s red hair away from his brow with gentle fingers. She then leant forward and pressed a tiny kiss above his brow.

“It’s okay,” she murmured as she pulled away. “I’m here.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter has been amazingly beta'd by KoraKunkel. Thank you so much!

_Friday, three am._

Ron had lost track of time when he returned home to his flat in the middle of the night, or early morning, depending on how one looked at it. His body ached as usual from being so bonelessly tired, but there was something new in his body, too; something that made him feel ten times lighter.

_Ease. Relief._

Once the words had started pouring out of Ron, sitting down by the stream with Luna - it never stopped. Somebody was listening to him without interruption, without objection, without telling him to work harder on cheering up. Luna had taken his hand at some point when his breath shuddered a bit, as if she sensed he had needed comfort. It had been ages since somebody had willingly wanted to hold Ron’s hand so he had eagerly let her, their cold fingers intertwining. Luna’s thumb had caressed the upper side of his hand and held it until Ron pulled away because his palm was all sweaty and he was scared Luna might find it disgusting. They were both in their early twenties, yet their strangely intimate talk made him feel like an anxious fourteen-year-old all over again.

_Then Luna kissed me._

The thought ran through his mind while he took off his Auror’s robes, trousers, and shirt. Luna had only kissed his brow, but her soft lips tickling his skin for one second before she pulled back had felt... heavenly.

_She just did that out of pity. It doesn’t mean anything._

Ron dropped his clothes to the floor in his bedroom with a sigh and climbed into bed. As soon as he rested his head to the pillow and closed his eyes, he felt a chill near his face. Cracking one eye open, he noticed the transparent form of a hare Patronus sitting beside him on the mattress.

“Made it home safely, Ronald?” Luna’s dreamy voice spoke through the small animal. “Thank you again for the book. I hope you will have a good night’s sleep.”

He smiled and summoned the Jack Russell with the wand he had previously put on his bedside table. “Yeah, I did. Thank you for tonight, Luna. I hope you sleep well too.”

The dog ran off with a loud bark and Ron threw his wand back on the table. He dropped his head back onto the pillow, his smile widening slightly. Luna’s care warmed him.

It had taken Ron all night, but just before he left Luna to Disapparate home, he had finally had the courage to give her the book he bought earlier that day in Flourish and Blotts. He had felt pretty weird about it but Luna’s face had brightened when he gave it to her, making his heart flutter in his chest.

_’Ronald, this is beautiful. Thank you.’_

_’Maybe you can have it for your research,’ Ron said, smiling. ’You can write everything you discover in there. They didn’t have anything about Snorkacks in the shop, so… this was the second-best thing.’ He blushed and was very glad Luna couldn’t see it._

_’You didn’t have to buy me anything, Ronald.’_

_’I know. But… I feel so fucking terrible, Luna. Couldn’t get your face out of my head after I yelled at you. I’m really sorry.’_

_’It’s okay,’ she assured him. ’Everything will be all right.’_

They had parted with a hug after; Luna had been standing on her tip-toes to be able to loop her arms around Ron’s neck. The smell of her strawberry-scented shampoo had encased him as tightly as her arms when they hugged and it had been weirdly soothing. Ron couldn’t wrap his head around why the fuck that was - but sharing so much in the span of several hours must have done something to him. It was incredible how nice Luna was- had he noticed that before? Her whole being seemed so weirdly calming to him and Ron couldn’t understand why.

_Friday six am_

The alarm spell went off with a loud buzz. Ron threw the pillow over his head and groaned, before he decided to shut the damn thing off. He then sat up and dizzily scribbled down that he was sick on a piece of parchment and sent it off with his owl, Pig. As soon as he shut the window after letting the bird out, he went back to bed and fell asleep again immediately.

_Friday three pm_

The next time Ron opened his eyes, it was late afternoon. He heard the rain pouring down outside, the patter lightly tapping on the window. Ron lifted his head from the pillow and realised he had drooled a little on it. He sat up fully and rubbed his eye with one hand.

He was still tired, but he was sure he hadn’t slept that good in years. He stretched out from his sitting position, his arms above his head. Ron let them fall feebly to the sides before flopping back onto the mattress. He had told Luna about his trouble sleeping last night along with everything else that had poured out of his unstoppable mouth. He blushed remembering all the things he had said.

Maybe he had been too honest? Maybe he shouldn’t have said…

The bad thoughts came back to him almost immediately, mixed with an urge to tell Luna how good he had slept during the past couple of hours. Ron shook his head, as if trying to shake the strange thought off that way.

_Why the hell would Luna care how you’ve slept? Plus, you didn’t even go to work today._

_***_

_’Just a bit shit, everything…’ Ron mumbled. He was freezing, and he didn’t know what the time was._

_’Sometimes things are,’ Luna said wisely, which made Ron give her a feeble smile._

_“Wrackspurts…” Ron said. “Reckon my head’s full of them?” He didn’t know if it was a question or not, and he didn’t know what he meant by it._

_Luna squeezed his hand. “Most people’s heads are.”_

_She gazed deeply into his blue eyes and for a moment, Ron forgot about being cold. He found his heart pounding so wildly again that it almost hurt. Suddenly Ron was so aware of how tightly their fingers were intertwined and how sweaty his hand was. How close Luna was._

_Ron removed his hand and wiped the wetness from his palm on his knee. He tore his eyes away from her’s and stared up at the night sky, willing himselfto look anywhere but at her._

_The light of the full moon reflected in Luna’s pale eyes making them almost glow. When Ron dropped Luna’s hand, she moved them to her arms to warm herself._

_“Are you cold?” Ron asked. He pulled off his thick Auror’s robes before she answered and wrapped them around her like a blanket._

_“Won’t you freeze now?”_

_“No, no, it’s f-fine. It’s not that cold,” Ron assured her, even though he knew that was a lie, as he felt the chilled breeze brush against his arms._

_***_

_Friday, six pm_

Ron was in his kitchen cutting garlic when he noticed the transparent hare sitting on his kitchen table. Seeing the Patronus made him smile.

“I hope you had a good day today, Ronald,” Luna’s voice spoke. “I was writing in my new book you see, and I thought about you.”

Ron’s heart skipped a beat. What, had he really been in Luna’s thoughts today?

His first thought was why. His second was… He didn’t really know what his second thought was. Ron just knew that Luna’s words warmed him. He was never in anybody’s thoughts.

Ron reached for his wand on the kitchen counter and summoned his own Patronus. “I did. Guess what, I actually slept. Like a real sleep. Can you imagine?” The terrier ran away with the message before Ron could regret anything. He turned back to the garlic he’d been cutting and dumped it into the pot on the stove.

Ron was cooking proper food for the first time in forever. He never felt hunger anymore, not really anyway. So when his stomach rumbled more furiously than it had done in a long time, he was almost taken by surprise. The only thing Ron had managed to find in the pantry was spaghetti and tinned tomatoes, so now he was making tomato sauce to go with the spaghetti. He moved around in his kitchen with ease, actually feeling… _okay._

“That’s nice.” The hare was back, sitting on the wooden kitchen table. “I’m happy for you, Ronald.” 

Ron smiled. He shot the box of spaghetti a look and summoned his own Patronus once more. “I’m about to cook some food. Would you like to come over?”

The Jack Russell ran away about the same time as the hare vanished and Ron suddenly became aware of what he had asked.

_Why the hell did I ask that?_

Ron’s throat was dry. He desperately reached for a glass in the kitchen cabinet to pour himself some water, which he drank so eagerly he spilt some of it on his t-shirt. His stomach churned with worry.

She would say no.

She would say no.

He knew she would.

Fuck.

His hands squeezed the edges of the kitchen counter until his knuckles whitened. He was so frustrated with himself. Why was he so spontaneously weird? Fucking hell.

“I’d like that.” Luna’s soft, dreamy voice filled the kitchen as the hare reappeared. Ron whipped around. “Send me your address. I’ll see you soon, Ronald.”

It took a few moments for Luna’s words to sink in. For a minute, he almost expected her to say she was joking and laugh. When it didn’t come and the hare disappeared, Ron hurriedly sent his own Patronus with his address and rushed into his bedroom to dress in something nicer than the tatty, orange Chudley Cannons t-shirt he was currently wearing. Hermione had once called it ugly and wanted him to throw it out, pointing out all the various holes at the hem.

Ron rummaged through his closet to try to find something that didn’t look like it passed through several generations of Weasleys. He often didn’t care what he was wearing, and found that almost every piece of clothing in his sorry wardrobe had either holes in them or looked extremely washed out. Ron pinched a chequered shirt between two fingers and made a face at it. Why did he have so many of them? And the infamous Weasley sweaters… Merlin, he couldn’t wear that! His trousers had a tomato stain on it after he’d wiped his hands on them when he cooked earlier. Which he wasn’t finished with either.

_Why are you stressing? This isn’t a date._

Ron took a deep breath. He didn’t know why he was so damn nervous.

_It’s just Luna. You’ve been able to hang out with Luna before without feeling anything so why are you so bloody weird now?_

Eventually, he found a dark blue shirt that looked a bit newer than the rest of everything he’d pulled out from his closet and tossed into an untidy pile by the bed. Ron buttoned it all the way up to the collar and ran into the bathroom to wash his face and check himself in the mirror. He hated the reflection staring back at him. Despite sleeping for so many hours, he still had purple bags under his eyes. He started stressing about the fact he hadn’t shaved the stubble growing on his chin, which was a fucking weird thought. Again, it was just _Luna._

With a sigh, Ron padded out to the kitchen to pick up his wand to spell the tomato stain away. His heart was beating too damn fast in his chest.

When the doorbell rang shortly after, Ron nearly jumped. He hit the doorframe on his way to open the front door and he silently cursed his own clumsiness as he rubbed his aching arm. He was going to get a bruise there for sure.

“Hey,” Ron smiled to Luna, hoping it looked genuine and not fucking weird. He held the door open for her and stepped aside so she could get in. He winced, realising he’d cared more about finding nicer clothes than the state of his flat. Things were everywhere and he could see some dust in one corner. Hopefully Luna didn’t notice that.

“Thank you for inviting me, Ronald,” Luna said, taking off her coat. She gave Ron a small hug, and it felt so natural and easy. She was warm and smelled good, the strawberry scent invading his nostrils.

“Sorry it’s so messy,” Ron said quickly, raking a nervous hand through his hair. His palm was so damn sweaty. “Kitchen’s that way,” he continued, motioning wildly to his left. Ron led the way, with Luna following.

They stood awkwardly for what felt like a lifetime, until Ron coughed and admitted with reddening cheeks that the food wasn’t ready.

“That’s okay, I can help,” Luna offered, tucking a tendril of her dirty-blonde hair behind her ear. Ron caught himself staring as if in a trance, before he blinked to snap out of it.

_Get your shit together. She listened to you, held your hand and kept you company for one fucking night and suddenly you act as if, as if…_

Ron couldn’t find a proper word to describe his behaviour. He just knew he was being weird. For some reason he was drawn to Luna Lovegood, and it was bothering the hell out of him. It was just so bloody typical; Ron attached himself to anyone who looked at him longer than a few seconds.

“No,” he said absently, shaking his head. “You’re my guest; just sit down and wait and I-”

But Luna had already taken off the long maroon cardigan, that had been covering a rainbow coloured dress and flung it over a chair. She then pulled up her long, slightly messy hair in a ponytail and stirred the concoction in the pot on the stove before Ron even had time to react.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said too quickly, grabbing the scoop she was using. Instead of that, though, he managed to grab Luna’s hand and the touch made all the nerves of his hand tingle. Ron momentarily froze before he managed to pull his hand away.

“I don’t mind helping.” Luna smiled up to him and Ron found himself smiling back, trying to ignore the sensation in his hand. “You can boil the water for the spaghetti if you like.” She nodded to the empty pot Ron had set aside earlier on the countertop.

Ron did as he was told and let Luna take charge of the tomato sauce. They continued to cook side by side as they fell into an easy conversation. Luna told him about a trip she had made a couple of months ago with her dad and Ron heard himself laugh at a particularly funny detail that made Luna giggle when she told it, her cheeks slightly pink and her eyes bright, remembering the good memory.

His laugh was genuine - something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

***

“Do you want to watch telly while we eat?”

Ron was pretty chuffed with the muggle device in his sitting room that showed DeeVeeDee films if he put in a circular-shaped silvery thing into a little plastic box beside it. He didn’t have a lot of Muggle movies, but his modest little collection was very neat. One year, he and Harry had used a Muggle video device to capture a Chudley Cannons match, which had turned it into a DeeVeeDee film so he could relive the wonderful memories any time he wanted.

For some reason, Ron thought that Luna might enjoy his telly. He walked with her into the sitting room and proudly pointed it out across from his sofa, blushing slighty as he quickly cleared off the mess from the cushions. Luna looked at it with more curiosity than bewilderment, which Ron reckoned was a good sign. He briefly explained how his TV worked and showed her the films he had in his tiny collection.

“There’s channels too… Like the news and stuff but that’s not so fun to watch…” Ron said, cheeks reddening. “I like to watch movies. We recorded the Cannons once. So now I can watch it whenever I like.”

“Really?” Luna’s eyes twinkled with interest. “The Chudley Cannons are in this box?”

“Yeah, they live in this round thing,” Ron said, grinning. He brandished the DeeVeeDee-casing his beloved Quidditch team were forever captured in and popped the disc into the DeeVeeDee box when Luna said she wanted to watch. She helped him set the coffee table with the food, knives, forks, glasses and plates before Ron lit a few candles and they sat down together on his secondhand-sofa that used to belong to Bill at one point.

Throughout the film, Ron eagerly pointed out stuff he thought was important as the match played on the screen. He absently shoved food into his mouth and talked during the same time, too into the game to be embarrassed about his manners. Gordon Horton saved an incredible goal which Ron still thought was absolutely brilliant, despite seeing it a million times. His stomach clenched with anticipation and excitement every time and he relaxed in relief when Horton managed to prevent the Quaffle from going through the hoop.

Ron was so into the game he didn’t notice Luna was looking at him. “You’re so beautiful when you smile, Ronald,” she said, her head slightly tilted to the side as she watched him. “And when you laugh it’s like music.”

His body tensed. “Sorry?” Ron turned to her in his seat. They were sitting close, had they done that all along? He felt a wetness on his right cheek and realised in horror he probably had smeared tomato sauce there.

“You’re beautiful when you’re happy,” Luna gently repeated, her expression soft. She nodded to the TV screen. “You should always look as you do now, sitting here watching your favourite team. I wish for you to look like this all the time.”

Ron didn’t know what to say to that. He chewed, knowing he had spaghetti hanging out of the corner of his mouth and he felt nowhere near as beautiful as Luna claimed he was. When he finally managed to swallow the food, he was embarrassed how Luna could see the food go down his throat as he swallowed visibly and loudly. Ron wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked away.

“Thanks,” he mumbled shyly not knowing if it was the right response or not.

Ron suddenly felt uncomfortable. He put the plate he’d propped up in his lap while eating, back on the table and nervously wiped the sweat off his palms on his trousers. “Erm… Well, this was fun, Luna. But maybe… maybe you should go now.” Ron got to his feet.

“I upset you…” Luna said quietly, watching him and rose from her seat too.

“No you didn’t,” Ron assured her, but his burning cheeks gave him away. “It’s just — Never mind, it’s okay, Luna. But I think... I think you should go home. It’s getting late...”

_I’m pushing you away before you get the chance to do it to me._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been amazingly beta'd by KoraKunkel, who also made the absolutely incredible artwork you can see in this chapter. I was originally going to post it in the last chapter, but I felt like it really set the mood for this one. <3

_Friday, late night_

Luna looked sad when Ron closed the door after they said goodbye. He leant his forehead against the wood and squeezed his eyes shut.

_I’m so fucking stupid._

Ron felt so confused. There were new stirrings in his stomach he knew he shouldn’t have.

_That’s because you’re attaching. You always do. And then what? It will end the same way as it always does. With you. Alone._

He clutched at his hair desperately with both hands and pulled hard enough to cause pain. Ron felt like he was going mental, and maybe he was. Maybe he was finally losing his shit.

He turned, sank to the cold floor and pressed his back against the hard wooden surface of the door. His head flopped into his hands, messy tendrils of his red hair sticking up everywhere. A part of him wanted to cry, and he felt the familiar squeeze of an anxiety attack coming up. He inhaled and exhaled with unsteady breaths, forcing the anxiety to go and hide somewhere before it surfaced and did more damage than Ron had already done.

It was always the same. Ron always wanted to feel loved. It had been that way since he was a kid. While a part of him was sure his parents cared for all their children, it was his siblings that always got more attention. Ginny entered the world a little over a year after Ron was born and stole everyone’s hearts right away. Ron was just another Weasley boy, and no matter how hard he tried, he was never as cool as Charlie or Bill. He’d certainly never be as studious or smart as perfect Percy. George and Fred were the funny pranksters, even his mother had smiled at their mischief when nobody saw, though she would never admit to it. Nothing Ron did was special or extraordinary - everything had already been done before.

When he met Harry at the Hogwarts Express when they were eleven, he immediately grew attached to him. Harry had seen _him_ and been genuinely interested in Ron in the same way as Ron had been in him. They were still best friends, but Ginny was the centre of attention for Harry now and the older they got, the less time Ron and Harry spent together. Ron was happy for Harry to have found happiness, love and comfort in his little sister - and according to that fucking vending machine, they were soulmates, too. He had never been interested in Harry in _that_ way, yet he still felt a bit pushed aside when Harry, so very clearly, chose Ginny over him a lot these days.

Ron had attached himself to Hermione, somewhere between the troll and the Yule ball. He’d been pining after her for so long. Then, when she responded feeling the same way, Ron had briefly felt like he was on top of the world. Until it had all come crashing down around their ears. Ron didn’t know if he had been naive to think that Hermione might have been able to save him, or that he had hoped she would. It didn’t work that way. The emptiness had been there well before Hermione, grew during their time together and stayed past their relationship. It was the only thing in Ron’s life that felt certain. The emptiness had settled in his body some years ago and was fucking staying, moving in nice and cosy deep within him.

Nobody would be able to fix that.

_All I want is to be able to feel the joy everyone else can without everything constantly aching inside._

Ron knew it was unfair to push Luna Lovegood away. She had been nothing but kind to him and yet, he acted like a total dickhead. He wanted her out of his flat because she said he was beautiful. It wasn’t what she had said that startled him. It was the attachment that had begun stressing him to no end. Yesterday, she’d held his hand and kissed his brow, and he had let her. It had felt so nice, thinking about her soft lips on his skin made Ron involuntarily warm inside.

Ron had opened up about so many things he never even had spoken to Hermione about while they were together. He knew he was attaching to Luna and eventually, she would grow tired of him and push him away. Once she figured out how fucked-up he really was, she would leave.

_Everyone always does._

_When you can’t look on the bright side…_

Ron scoffed into the air of his darkened hallway.

_Saturday afternoon_

“You okay?” Ginny asked, nursing a cup of steaming hot tea in her hands.

Ron hadn’t asked for it, but his little sister had decided to visit. She had sent an owl the same morning, asking if it was okay if she dropped by in the afternoon. Ginny had gone through the Floo about an hour ago, and all they had done was sit in silence across each other in Ron’s messy kitchen. The remnants of the spaghetti and tomato sauce still caked the countertop, keeping the smell of his disastrous dinner hanging around his flat. It reminded him how much a failure he was. 

Ginny sought his gaze, but Ron was firmly keeping it downcast. “Grand.”

“Liar.” She smiled at him.

Ron shrugged.

“Will you be at Mum and Dad’s for dinner tomorrow?” Ginny continued when it was clear Ron had nothing to add to her previous question.

“Do I have a choice?” Ron quirked an eyebrow. “If I’m not there you know mum’s gonna send someone to check up on me.”

“I know,” Ginny mumbled. “Thought I’d ask anyway. Because I — I invited Luna.”

“To a Weasley family dinner? Lucky her.” Ron snorted. “D’you wanna scare her away Gin?”

“Quite the opposite, actually. I was hoping my brother might want to make sure she’ll be all right and have fun.” Ginny smirked.

Ron narrowed his eyes. “What’re you talking about?”

“Nothing.” Ginny winked at him and leant back in the chair. Watching a pigeon sitting just outside the kitchen window, she stretched and squinted at the lazy afternoon sun. “Luna’s my best friend. We talk every day, see each other almost every day. So…” She moved her gaze from the window to Ron again, “I might know you’ve been talking to her too, since the carnival.”

“She told you that?” Ron knew that was probably a stupid question. Who else would have told her? Then he got worried. Luna wasn’t always very good at keeping things to herself. Had she told Ginny anything? “What did she say?”

“That she thinks you’re nice. I don’t know how that’s possible.” Ginny grinned at him before her expression turned serious. “I think she might like you, though. Like really, really like you. I see it in her, she lights up when she talks about you. It’s odd but… If you don’t like her back, just… Let her down easy, will you?” She raised her coppery eyebrows at him. “Like I said, Luna’s my best friend. I don’t want my brother to hurt her.”

“What makes you so sure I would?”

_Because that’s what I do? Hurt everybody?_

Ginny shrugged. “I’m just saying. Don’t hurt her. If you don’t feel the same way she seems to feel about you.”

Ron sighed. “What are you on about, Ginny? Luna’s not in love with me. I’ve barely seen her since before the damn carnival!”

His little sister rolled her eyes at him. “You’ve clearly been blind, Ron.”

_How?_

***

_Saturday evening_

People don’t fall in love in a week. Plus, why would anybody want him? Luna was pretty. She might be a little strange, but she was brilliant in her own way.

She didn’t care what anybody thought about her either - Ron cared _too_ much what people thought about him. He wondered what it felt like to be that kind of free-spirited.

_What’s your secret, Luna?_

Ron stared at his wand; he had recklessly dropped on his coffee table. It wasn’t a conscious thought when he picked it up and summoned the Jack Russell terrier, and it seemed to stare at him as it shot out of his wand. He started talking before he even knew what he was saying.

“Luna. How do you breathe? How do you know which way’s up? How do you walk around just… not caring? Cause you don’t, I see you don’t. You didn’t care when people stole your shoes in school, you don’t care about anything, not even when people say mean things behind your back -which they’ve got no right to do, by the way- and you’re just… You’re amazing, you know that? I just want to know. I want to feel the way you feel too, carefree like you are. Because I dunno how the fuck you do that, and it’s so bloody — It’s just great. And I’m sorry. All I do is hurt people.”

Ron talked rapidly and animatedly, his words coming out in a jumbled rush, and he began pacing back and forth in his sitting room. When he was done, his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath and the damn dog ran off, leaving Ron to regret his life decisions.

_Great. I chuck Luna out one day and be bloody weird the next. If she didn’t hate me before, she sure as hell does now._

_Sunday, around 4 am_

What did Ron expect, really? Luna Lovegood’s life story delivered by Patronus? No, of course not. She wouldn’t fucking give that to him. If Ron received a weird Patronus like that from anyone, he’d probably suspect the person was high. Or drunk. Harry had a funny way of drunk-Patronusing him once in a while, especially when he was out on the pub with their other colleagues.

Ron rarely went to the pub with the others from work anymore, he often couldn’t concentrate on following their empty conversations. It was as though he didn’t have any patience with them, and he felt so drained all the time. Just listening was tiring - he never had anything to add. People had stopped asking him questions since Ron never had anything to say. He wasn’t saying enough interesting things. Except for the carnival a week ago, Harry was right, Ron did nothing other than hiding in his flat.

_Going back and forth to work. That’s all you fucking do. Then dinner at the Burrow every Sunday._

Ron could never avoid the Weasley family dinners. He reluctantly dragged himself to the Burrow each Sunday, enduring his family’s conversations and his mother’s nagging. He reckoned she meant well, but Ron was so tired of hearing the worry in her tone when she asked when he would settle down or if he had met a nice girl yet. She had started to ask about boys too since Charlie came out to them last spring and quickly after, brought Jonathan to their family home. Jonathan was a dragon keeper too, had his arms full of tattoos and Charlie always looked at him with a soft, happy expression and longing eyes whenever he wasn’t glued to his side. It was great, Charlie had always been the ‘forever single’ one, but for some reason, it felt as though their mother worried more about Ron being alone than she ever did with Charlie.

_’You don’t handle loneliness very well, dear.’_

Ron was in bed, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. The hour was late, and he’d been in bed for the past four hours, not being able to shut his damn eyes no matter how hard he tried. His mind spun like all hell; Ron almost felt dizzy.

The light tapping of a beak against the window filled his room. Ron creased his eyebrows and climbed out of his bed to pull the curtains aside. He rarely got any messages, and when he did, it was never in the middle of the night. The owl was persistent, tapping against the glass until Ron opened up the window, in which the bird flew in, hooting wildly. It was chocolate brown with white dots splattered across its wings. Ron wasn’t sure if he had ever seen the owl before; it wasn’t his family’s that was for sure. Neither was it Harry and Ginny’s.

The owl dropped a parcel onto Ron’s bed and then sat down beside it, looking almost expectantly up to him. Ron reached out his hand and patted the bird on its head before grabbing the package. It was thick with brown wrapping, and the content was hard and solid, like a box. Who the hell would send him a box? He looked it over, but there was no sender written on the wrapping. A beige string was wrapped around it too, like a ribbon. Ron sat down by the edge of the bed and removed the string around the parcel with gentle hands. He tore carefully at the wrappings, partially nervous over what he would find inside.

It was a book, dark purple with the word _Journal_ engraved in gold on the front. Ron’s heart skipped a beat, it was the book he had given Luna. So, this must be her owl, or at least, belonging to the Lovegood family. Why was she sending it back to him? Didn’t she like it?

Ron licked his lips, suddenly worried. The book was in his lap, and he looked out the window to see the sun already had begun rising, the sky brightening along with it. He sighed and lifted the hand, clutching the book to his rub at his eye.

_Maybe she sent it back because of that bloody weird Patronus. It must have been the Patronus._

Ginny was wrong. So very wrong. Luna didn’t see him in _that_ way, that was fucking impossible. Clearly, since he had proof right here too.

Nobody saw him in that way.

Ron scowled when his gaze moved from the window down to the book in his lap. He tossed it aside, almost hitting the owl who’d edged closer and was now gently nibbling his finger.

“Sorry, mate,” he said in a low voice to the bird, “You don’t have any idea why your owner sent you the book I gave her, do you?”

The owl shook its head, and Ron smiled.

“She kept you in the dark about that as well, huh? Well, you know what? It’s probably because of me. I seem to have that effect on people. Always have, I reckon.”

The owl hooted in response, and Ron stroked it over the head again before withdrawing his hand. “Probably time for you to go now, mate. I haven’t slept all night, and it’s almost daytime. I need to be at my family’s house in a couple of hours, so…” He stood, opening the window to let in the chilly, early morning air.

The bird didn’t move, it just stood there. Its yellow eyes gazed up at Ron with a stare that almost rivalled Luna Lovegood’s.

Ron let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, you can’t stick around here. Sod off back to your family, all right?” He waved his hand towards the open window, yet the bloody owl refused to move.

Ron rolled his eyes.

“Fine. If you don’t want to go, then don’t. Just don’t shit on the carpet.” He closed the window again and pulled the curtains close. _Fucking hell what a stubborn creature._

The bird hooted again and pecked its beak on the front of the Journal still lying unopened on Ron’s bed.

“Yeah, yeah, the book. I know, I know,” Ron muttered sullenly. He picked it up and threw it on his cluttered bedside table, almost knocking down a glass of water he’d set there the night before. Giving the book another frown, he climbed beneath his duvet again, hoping to get _some_ sleep until he had to face his family.

Ron had barely closed his eyes when the bird, who apparently had stayed in his bed, bit him on his earlobe. He yelped in both surprise and pain, shot up to a sitting position and flailed his arm to the owl.

“OW! The hell did you do that for?!” Stupid fucking…

The Lovegood’s owl flapped its wings, screeching indignantly, before flying over to the Journal and nibbled the corner of it, as if it wanted to open it.

“Hey, that was expensive!” Ron cried, shaking his hand in an attempt to get the hawk-like owl to move. He quickly grabbed the book before the bird could get its beak on it again. Ron huffed in irritation and was about to shove the damn book in the drawer when something in it caught his eye. There was something written -no, painted- Ron realised, between the covers.

Not once had he thought about opening the book; he didn’t want to pry. It would be rude, and if Luna was returning it to him, Ron figured she probably hadn’t used it after all. So what was the point with looking inside, really?

He placed the book carefully in his lap again, shifting a little where he sat on the soft mattress. With more care than he probably ever had shown in his entire life, Ron flipped the book open.

His heart fluttered unmanly at what he found.

On the first page, Luna had written his name: _Ronald_ in purple. Underneath that, she had painted a translucent Jack Russell terrier, the spitting image of Ron’s Patronus. Luna had cast a spell on the drawing, so it moved. The terrier was running over the page, briefly disappearing from view before returning again.

Underneath the dog, there was a small text: _Turn the page._

Ron did.

The following spread was painted all black. Stars began to form in front of Ron’s eyes, blinking yellow and white. The more he watched, the more stars appeared and they stayed there on the page, glowing for him. It made the slight darkness still in his bedroom lighten a bit.

There was something else too. In the right corner was a large grey rock with two people sitting on it. One of them -the taller of the two- had vivid red hair, the other had long light hair growing down her back, a multi-coloured beret atop her head. They were watching the stars, the young woman was pointing to one of them in the sky.

It was absolutely brilliant. Ron was sure he had never seen anything like it before, and it took his breath away. He let his fingertips stroke over the coarse paper as if he could feel the stars and the light and warmth shining out from them. His skin tingled.

_Fuck, Luna._

A small arrow painted on the large rock encouraged Ron to flip the pages once more. On the next spread, a transparent hare was running across the parchment.

Luna’s Patronus, Ron thought. The next page was a letter, written in a swirled handwriting - it was the most beautiful Ron had ever seen. His own was so scrawling and ugly - Luna’s was so delicate, like an artwork all in its own.

_Ronald,_

_Wrackspurts live inside a lot of people’s heads. They make everyone’s brains turn fuzzy, you know. Sometimes the wrackspurts won’t leave. Emptiness is a monster. I am sorry you have to deal with that Ronald, but I hope this can make you smile. Because you always made me smile, you see. In school, you had funny jokes, even if they were a little insensitive sometimes if you don’t mind me saying. But you are not an insensitive person, Ronald._

_You are so kind, smart and beautiful. I saw you playing chess in the Great Hall a few times while we were at Hogwarts, concentrating on moving every chess piece across the board. How your brows always furrowed then, and the sheer bliss on your face when you won. It was the same bliss I saw on your face while we watched the Chudley Cannons. I love it when you smile._

_I’ve got it too, you know. Emptiness. My Mum died when I was nine years old. She was experimenting with a new spell, it went wrong, and she didn’t survive. I was there in the room with her and saw her die. I wasn’t feeling all right for a long time after that. I had lots of nightmares. You lost your brother, and I understand the pain you are going through. It’s all right to feel like the world is falling apart, but it doesn’t, not really. The sun keeps on rising and setting every day._

_I also wish you could see how magical you are. In a starry sky, you’d be the star shining the brightest. I’ve always known that._

_At the carnival, Ronald - I never told you what my quote was. I thought it didn’t belong to anything at first, you see… That it was just a sentence to make me happy. And it does, but I see now it was meant to be something more significant._

_(Flip the page.)_

Ron turned to the next page. Luna’s handwriting continued along with a drawing of him, moving a knight across a chessboard. The Ron in the picture was leaning forward, concentrating hard on the move, but he was smiling confidently like he knew he was already going to win. Like he had things going for him. Ron hadn’t touched a chessboard in years, the emptiness within him hadn’t allowed him the joy.

_Ronald, when you can’t look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark._

_I’ve always loved you. Now I know why._

_Luna_

Ron blinked a few times. His hands were shaking, his mouth had gone dry. He looked at the owl, who gazed back with its intense, yellow eyes, scrutinising him. Ron looked back down at the book. Underneath her own writing, Luna had attached both their quotes from the vending machine. Ron had forgotten Luna never gave it back to him when she took it during their talk by the stream. Now it was in the book, matching hers. Like Harry and Ginny’s had done.

_Soulmates. The fucking soulmates thing._

Ron was sure he never had had so many questions before in his life.


	7. Chapter 7

The Burrow was filled with people and all the loud noises that came with it. When Ron came through the Floo into the sitting room, he spotted Harry, Ginny, Fleur and Bill already sitting on the sofa, deeply sucked into a discussion about something Ron didn’t hear. Victorie - Bill and Fleur’s daughter - was playing on the floor, and the three-year-old’s face immediately lit up when she saw Ron.

“Hey.”

The greeting was to all of them, but Ron bent down, scooping up Victorie in his arms and squeezing her small body in a tight hug. He buried his nose in the light curls and kissed the top of her head. The child giggled.

“You get bigger every time I see you,” Ron smiled to her when he let her down on the floor.

“More mischievous too. I swear, there must be something from the twins in her.” Bill grinned as he came forward, seizing Ron in a one-armed hug. “How is my baby brother? Good?”

“Fine,” Ron muttered, looking around the room. His eyes were searching for Luna, but she wasn’t there. Ginny was leaning into Harry on the sofa, but no Luna was seen. Where was she? Had she changed her mind?

Before Ron could ask his little sister, another Weasley brother stood on the threshold. Charlie matched Bill’s grin, his freckled face practically glowing with happiness. A brown-haired man followed shortly after, nodding slightly in a greeting. Jonathan was shy and never said much to any of them.

“You look like hell,” Charlie commented as he too seized Ron in a hug. He ruffled his hair. “I mean it. You look like absolute shite, and I say that with love.” He leant close, muttering in Ron’s ear, “Okay, right? Otherwise, Joey can give you something, y’know, he’s got this great…”

“No thanks,” Ron interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. The last time Charlie offered to ’help’ was still very much clear in his mind. It hadn’t worked either. “Uhm… Where’s…” His cheeks coloured slightly. He pushed Charlie gently aside, blue eyes falling on Ginny, who arched a meaningful brow from where she sat on the sofa. She nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Out in the garden.”

“Who?” Harry shot them both a peculiar look, obviously oblivious. Ron couldn’t help to smile at that.

“Later,” he told him, pushing past everyone and into the kitchen to say hello to his mum. Molly dashed around in the cramped kitchen, busy stirring a concoction on the stove with her wand, while at the same time charming a knife to slice bread on the counter.

“There you are, Ronald,” she said, putting down her wand to cup his face in her hands and kiss his cheeks.

“Hey, Mum.” Ron hoped his smile was genuine and that he didn’t look like he just wanted to get out of the back door.

“So lovely to see you, dear,” Molly continued. She brushed away something from his shoulder while at the same time adding how thin Ron was.

“Yeah, nice to see you too, Mum,” said Ron absently, eyes set on the door he knew led to the garden. Where Luna was.

His _soulmate._

He just needed to see her. Ron felt like he wasn’t connected to his body and his mother’s voice drowned in his ears as he pulled away from her and stepped out in the midday sun, ignoring her calls after him. If this had been any other day, he maybe would have heard her ask him to set the table.

Ron hadn’t slept at all during the night, and he was dizzy, mouth dry with thousands of thoughts rushing through his mind. His mind was too clouded to be able to sort them out though, and the only thing he could in this very moment was to push forward and keep going. 

The world around him moved in slow motion as his feet headed off in the soft, too long grass in the Weasley family garden. A brisk wind caught his hair, playing with it as his head turned in every direction, looking for the dirty-blonde-haired woman that had worn the knitted multi-coloured beret Ron had been completely fascinated with.

He found her as he rounded the corner of the house. Luna was on all fours in the grass with her back against Ron, humming to herself as she was looking at the garden gnomes. Had it been any other day, a normal day, Ron maybe would have smiled at the sight, but now he only stopped short, his heart racing madly and blood pounding loudly in his ears. Ron wanted to say so much, _ask_ so much, but he couldn’t. He froze.

As if sensing he was there anyway, Luna looked over her shoulder and up to Ron who suddenly felt very tongue-tied. He couldn’t move, standing there wide-eyed with slightly parted lips. Ron’s blue eyes were locked on Luna’s pale silver. Her hair was lighter in the sun, he noticed. Ron caught sight of the dress she was wearing, a longer orange one with bare legs.

It was as much as Ron could think before Luna stood, and walked over to wrap her arms around him without a word. His arms curled around her petite upper body too, and just like he’d done with Victorie, he buried his nose deep in her hair, inhaling the strawberry-scent which almost made him shudder.

“It’s all right,” Luna whispered soothingly against his chest.

“Luna…” Ron mumbled into her hair. His eyes were closed, which somehow made it easier to speak, as he didn’t have to look Luna directly in the face. “The paintings you did… they were so fucking beautiful. Thought you were gonna use the book for your research…” There was a hint of a smile in his tone. Ron squeezed her before forcing himself to pull away. He wanted to stay there and never let go, hug her forever. His mind was reeling when his gaze met hers.

“We need to talk,” he said in a low voice, even though his heart was beating too fast to be able to do any real talking. Ron was so confused, he didn’t know what he wanted.

“H-how did you figure out our quotes matched?” Ron asked her before he could stop himself. His throat felt all weird and dry. Unconsciously, he lifted his hand to brush away a small bug that he noticed was caught in Luna’s hair.

“I was sketching in the book you gave me. After we talked by the stream…” Luna said with a small smile. “I put my quote in because I wanted to draw something pretty to match it. And then, when I looked down at the words, I realised they reminded me of what you got from the machine. I accidentally kept your quote you see, and then I just… put them together.” She beamed up at him. “I wanted to draw you something nice and show you because you needed to see the beautiful meaning of the whole message. That it wasn’t as awful as you thought… You deserve to be happy, Ronald.”

“Did you really mean what you said in the letter? That you… Uhm… that you…”

_Love me._

Ron couldn’t say it, but Luna seemed to understand anyway. She seemed to understand everything without Ron having to explain much to her. He had so much trouble getting words out; the night by the stream outside of the Lovegood home had been a rare occasion. His cheeks reddened wildly, fuck’s sake, why did he have to be so easily blushed?! She got up to her tip-toes and, very gently, fleetingly, brushed her lips against Ron’s right cheek. He felt himself reddening further at the feeling of her soft lips caressing his, now pink and hot, skin. It tickled slightly.

“Always,” Luna said quietly as she pulled away. “I never said anything, you see, because I knew you didn’t fancy me. You fancied Hermione, and she…”

“Shh…” Ron didn’t want to hear Luna repeat his love life that had gone down the drain. Mustering all his Gryffindor courage, completely ignoring the hammering in his chest, he cupped the side of Luna’s face with a wide hand, the other one lifted to stroke her long, light hair out of her face and gently tuck it behind her small ear. She had homemade strawberry earrings, and that was all Ron saw before he dipped his head and, maybe finally, captured her lips with his own.

Ron’s heart was pounding so hard, his pulse drumming in his ears. He was so dizzy and felt so strangely hot all over. He pressed his lips against Luna’s, not daring to part her lips with his tongue in case she didn’t want him to. He didn’t want to fuck anything up. His hand cupping her face stroked over her cheek with his thumb, and he moved his mouth away from hers to place tiny kisses on her nose, cheeks and forehead. Luna’s eyes were closed, and she sighed contently. Her hands came up to rub over his arms as Ron buried a hand in her wonderfully long, and a bit curly, blonde hair.

“Ronald…” Luna breathed, eyes still closed and her fingers clawing into the fabric of his knitted jumper.

“Mhm?” Ron’s blue eyes searched her face, a bit worried he had done something wrong. Fucking hell, he always did something wrong.

_She doesn’t want this. She’s gonna reject you._

“Kiss me, Ronald…” Luna’s voice was a mere whisper. “Like you kissed…” Ron watched her swallow slightly. “Passionately…” she continued.

The request made something in Ron’s belly flutter. He smiled and pressed another kiss to her cheek before yet again capturing her lips with his. His tongue leisurely grazed along Luna’s bottom lip before seeking permission to enter her mouth. She parted her lips easily for him, and he felt her tongue against his as they greeted each other, moving at a slow pace. Luna’s hands moved from his arms up to his bright hair. Her fingertips stroked the nape of his neck, they felt so cold against his warm skin, he tilted his head to one side, getting a better angle…

Never in a million years did Ron thought kissing Luna Lovegood could feel _so_ good. So, so good. He wrapped his arms fully around her small waist, feeling as though he was on fire. Ron was embarrassed, feeling his blood rush about in his body, and how a well-known swelling he hadn’t felt in for-fucking-ever grew between his legs.

_Fuck, you can’t get a hard-on right now. It’s disgusting, Luna's gonna think you are…_

He wanted to pull away, but Luna sighed and pressed her body flush against his. If she felt what Ron at this point certainly did, she didn’t call him out on it. She made some sort of tiny and cute noise, making Ron’s skin tingle. Eventually, they pulled away, breathless, staring at each other.

Luna’s lips were swollen and wet, Ron couldn’t stop staring at them. _Fuck, she’s so…_

“So’s that what kissing a soulmate feels like?” Ron asked a bit hoarsely, his eyes looking directly at Luna and his own lips stinging. “Because… Never felt anything like that before in my life.” He couldn’t stop himself from saying it, but Merlin, that had been so _intense._ Ron had shared intense kisses with people before, but this had been on a whole other level. It was as though he could feel every emotion at the same time, like something otherworldly and entirely magical enlaced them and pulled them towards each other like magnets. Ron couldn’t explain it; he just knew he wanted more, more, more. But even if they hadn’t been standing in his family’s garden, surrounded by garden gnomes and birds chirping in the treetops, he wouldn’t have wanted to just press Luna down to a mattress or the ground and fuck her until the end of time. Ron wanted… Fuck, he didn’t know what exactly, he just knew this definitely meant something. They needed to talk about this.

“RONALD! LUNCH’S READY!”

A shrill voice belonging to his mother cut through the air and interrupted them. Ron swore inwardly, he didn’t want to sit through lunch with his family when he and Luna needed to sort whatever’s happening out.

He kissed Luna’s forehead before searching for her eyes again. “After lunch… Would you… Would you mind going to my place? I reckon we should… we should talk about what happened just now.” Ron ran a hand nervously through his hair and let out a small laugh. He was shaking.

_So bloody all over the place._

Luna nodded, beaming. “I’d love to, Ronald.”

***

Ron almost wanted to hold Luna’s hand on the way back to the house, but he didn’t. He walked as though he was a lot lighter, like his whole body and mind was filled with cotton. Ron felt so blurry; it was so damn hard to explain. Luna walked silently beside him, and Ron noticed she was barefoot. He recalled he had seen her a few times walking around barefoot when they were in school because people were nasty little buggers that kept stealing her shoes. Ron hated them all, knowing all about what bullying felt like. Her pale feet were cute, and a lot smaller than his own.

Molly was scurrying around in the narrow kitchen, making sure every family member had somewhere to sit when Ron swung the back door open and held it up for Luna to go in first. He blushed a bit when his eyes fell on Ginny, and she shot him a knowing look as if she somehow sensed what just had happened. Ron hoped none of the others would notice how swollen their lips were and put the pieces together. He wanted this to be just his and Luna’s secret for a little while. It was so bloody hard to wrap his mind around what just had taken place; he needed to sort it out before he, _they,_ told anyone.

“There you two are!” Molly said hurriedly. “Luna, dear, you can sit here and Ron…” She gestured loosely to two chairs.

They ended up next to each other, opposite Percy and George. Luna’s knee kept brushing against Ron’s, and he couldn’t help looking at her every now and then, feeling every glance warm him.

The kitchen was loud as everyone took their places and started helping themselves to Mrs Weasley’s cooking. Ron had always loved his mum’s food, but if anyone would ask him later what they ate that day, he wouldn’t be able to answer. He ate fast, barely remembering what the food tasted like. Ron kept stealing glances at Luna as he absentmindedly shoved food into his mouth. He spilt on his jumper and muttered a curse, but then he felt gentle fingers caressing the back of his hand before Luna took his hand fully in hers under the table. It was as though they were alone, and the rest of the people in the kitchen didn’t exist.

“Luna, we are so glad to have you in our home,” Molly said with a smile suddenly, and Ron felt Luna’s fingers slip away.

“Thank you for having me,” Luna answered politely, tucking a tendril of her light hair behind her ear in the same way that Ron had done in the garden earlier. “It was so nice of Ginny to invite me.”

Molly waved a hand dismissively. “No need to thank, dear. We’re just so happy having you.”

“I hope your father’s doing well?” Arthur asked, looking up from his food.

“Oh yes,” said Luna brightly. “Just a bit tired, is all. He gets so easily fatigued… But it’s nothing to worry about.” Ron thought she didn’t sound quite as bright as she had sounded a few minutes ago at that, but her expression was unchanged. Still, though, Ron felt his heart squeeze a little. Luna’s father had been in Azkaban, surely that must have taken a toll on him.

“Say, Luna, what do you do nowadays?” Arthur continued, looking at her with a curious expression on his face.

“I’ve been spending my time researching Crumple-horned Snorkacks,” said Luna. “I’m writing a book, you see…”

Luna then started to explain everything she knew about the creatures that lived in Sweden. The Weasleys listened as she spoke, telling them all about the trip she and Mr Lovegood had made to the small country and how she liked to go back again.

“Is it really necessary to spend all your time studying a creature you don’t know for sure exists?” Percy asked pointedly after a while. He pushed up the black-rimmed glasses on his nose, looking utterly pompous and all-important.

Ron immediately tensed. Percy could be such a prick.

“Percy…” he started, but Luna interjected before Ron could finish.

“That’s what I would like to prove,” she said with a smile. “I would like for everyone to know about these amazing magical beings. I’d like to take a longer trip to study them and photograph them for my book. I wouldn’t want to bring any back, I don’t want to separate them from their home. I’m saving all my money I make from writing and promoting Daddy’s paper…”

“Sounds very cool.” Charlie grinned at her. He held hands with Jonathan over the table and shovelled food into his mouth with his free hand.

“Hmm…” Percy huffed, his lips pressing together. “I think it’s a bit of a shame that you don’t do anything more useful with -”

“Fuck’s sake, Percy!” Ron threw him a dirty look over the table. He wanted to kick him. “What does it matter to you, what Luna does? If she wants to research these Snorky-whatevers she can! It’s up to her, isn’t it? Who cares if they exist or not, she’ll find out. We live in a fucking world with magic and dragons and phoenix birds and fairies, so…”

_Why couldn’t they exist?_

Ron bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying more. He wasn’t used to saying so much in such a short amount of time. The whole table had fallen completely silent, and he felt several pairs of eyes watching him, scrutinising him. He blushed under their gaze. Percy’s lips tightened further, but he said nothing more.

Ron felt fury rush within him. His squeezed his hands in his lap under the table. It really was painfully silent in the kitchen now; his mum didn’t even bother to scold him for his foul language. Even Victorie was keeping quiet, as if she could feel the tension in the room.

“Your research is amazing, Luna,” said Ginny after what felt like an eternity. “I’ve seen bits of it, it’s interesting.” 

Then George, who hadn’t said anything and had been sitting at the far end of the table all pale and staring down at his plate, taking slow bites of the food, started talking about a new invention he had in the works, so the rest of Ron’s family turned their attention to that.

***

“I’m so sorry,” Ron breathed out about three hours later. He and Luna had arrived by Floo in Ron’s sitting room after enduring some tea and lemon cake with his family. Ron had wanted to leave as soon as he could; in fact, he had never wanted to leave so much in his entire life.

“Why?” Luna asked curiously in that dreamy voice of hers. “It’s okay, Ronald.”

“No, it’s not,” Ron huffed in irritation. “Percy’s such a dickhead. He shouldn’t…”

“It’s okay,” Luna repeated and put her hand on his arm. “I think you are overreacting, he wasn’t really that bad…” She lifted her hand and gently brushed away Ron’s fringe that had fallen down over his eye. Her other hand came up and started rubbing in soothing circles over his shoulder. “I love you,” Luna said in a low voice.

The words along with the caresses calmed Ron down a bit. His throat felt tight, and his heart hammered yet again with such a force in his chest. Ron swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. “Luna… We need to talk.” He took her by the hand and led her to the sofa, where they, just a few days ago, had sat and watched the Chudley Cannons game on his telly. Ron still held her hand when they sat down, finding it hard to release it. He wanted to hold it forever, at least that was what it felt like, and it was weird and so sudden and…

Ron forced his worry away.

“Luna…” he began, somewhat tentatively, licking his lips before pressing them together as if he tried to prepare himself to reveal some horrible news. His free hand pinched the fabric of his worn-out jeans had had a hole at one knee. “I really… I mean…” Ron hated how he faltered, fucking hell, his tongue wasn’t playing ball. “I know now this soulmate-thing must’ve been real. And that kiss in the garden… fuck, that was amazing. But I… I’m so fucked up, Luna. I wake up every morning, and it’s shit. Everything’s shit. Can barely take care of myself anymore, I dunno if I’d be a good boyfriend. Dunno if a relationship is what I want at the minute. Or need…” He trailed off, knowing that if he carried on, he would probably manage to say something hurtful or stupid or both. “But I know how you make me feel,” Ron continued hastily, entwining his fingers in hers, “You make me relax. I sleep better whenever I’ve been around you. There’s something so special about you…”

_That makes me want to snog you senseless._

“Ronald, all I wish for is you to be happy,” Luna said softly, her knee brushing against his again in a way that made him nervous. His palms were sweating again. _Ew. She must think it’s disgusting._

“The soulmate-machine matched us and…”

“Luna,” Ron interjected, “You might not see it now, but eventually, you…” He untangled his hand from hers and rubbed at his face. “Eventually you’ll realise what a mess I am. Then you’ll be out the door faster than Malfoy turned into a ferret in fourth year.” Ron laughed a little at his own words.

“You are not a mess. You are just sad. In here.” Luna put her hand carefully on his chest again, feeling his beating heart. “Your head’s full of wrackspurts; they make you worried. I am here, Ronald.” She lifted her hand from his chest to his temple, once more sweeping his hair away from his face, pushing back his fiery-red fringe. Her touch was so genuine and warm, and Ron found himself feeling _loved. Really loved._ It was as though her light caresses sent out something magical and honest with such a raw and real emotion behind it. Ron couldn’t explain it, not really, but somehow he knew he never wanted to be without it.

Luna kept caressing, tangling her fingers in his bright hair, playing with the curls at the ends. For once, Ron stopped thinking, he nosed against her hand and pressed a small kiss to her wrist, and couldn’t help to suck a little on the skin, tongue grazing over the pulse point. Afraid it might have been a weird move he stopped, and as his eyes locked into her pale silver, Luna cupped his face in her hands and kissed him on his forehead, eyelids, both his cheeks and the corners of his mouth. Ron’s hands stroked over her back as Luna shifted on the sofa and somehow ended up in his lap, facing him. She put their foreheads together. Her moves were so insanely intimate; Ron almost felt nauseous.

It had been such a long time since Ron had been intimate with someone too and he knew he was trembling and getting an erection harder than the Whomping Willow’s whippings. If he, _they_ , didn’t stop he knew they were probably going to do something Ron didn’t want to do just yet. He wanted to take it slow, savour each moment. Discover what the fuck all of this was. He kissed her, tasting his mum’s homemade cake on her tongue.

“Luna…” Ron whispered, tucking her hair behind her ears.

  
“I’m here, Ronald,” Luna whispered back. “You are not alone.”

“Help me…” Ron’s voice was hoarse and rough and so _small._ He felt stupid and nervous with anxiety tingling beneath the skin.

_Take the evil thoughts and voices away._

“I’ll try.” Luna nuzzled against his cheek, before cuddling up in the crook of his neck. Ron felt the warm breath on his skin. “I can’t cure you, but I’m here when you need me. I will sit with you in the dark, Ronald. I will help you find happiness within yourself.”

Ron smiled into her strawberry-scented hair. “I’d like to see where this leads,” he mumbled. “Don’t want to fuck anything up. I already know I like kissing you… But maybe… maybe we could, dunno, take it slow and get to know one another and so before we jump into anything? Suppose we’re bound to one another because of the soulmate thing, but…” he trailed off again. Fuck’s sake, where the hell was he going with this?

Luna seemed to understand what he meant. “Of course,” she said in the dreamy voice.

“Really don’t want to mess this up.” Ron kissed the top of her head. Merlin, this had been the weirdest week of his life. He felt so open and stripped naked with how emotional and raw everything had been lately. “But just know that… that I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before. That okay for now? To… to know? You keep saying you love me and I — I’m not ready to say stuff like that.”

Luna smiled up to him. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Ronald.”

“Fuck’s sake, please tell me Luna is short for something I can torment you with,” Ron laughed and stroked down her long hair. “It’s not illegal saying Ron, y’know. Ronald sounds like my mother scolding me.”

Luna’s body shook a little in his arms as she giggled. “I prefer Ronald.”

_Well, okay._ Ron supposed he could live with that.

But he sure as hell wouldn't give up until he found a suitable nickname to tease her with until the end of time.

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading. <3 <3 <3


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